If You Want
by ManarInMoon
Summary: [HUMAN Charon!] On a long journey in search of her father, Jessica stumbles upon Charon. Unable to set him free, she is stuck with him, with the promise to find a way hanging in the air. What happens when his masks begin to fall and her heart falls with them? And Charon, he can't let her in. He'd grown to care too much for her to hurt her that way. But feelings had no master.
1. 1: What Leads Us To Now

Note: Charon's **real** name is SAWYER. I will refer to him as such in the story. You will find out **why **later.

**Warning**! This story contains the following **mature **themes: [Swearing. Mentions of rape. Gory death details. Make-out scenes.]

**DISCLAIMER: I own nothing but my OC and the major changes.**

XXX

It was just another day in the hell that was the Ninth Circle. Sawyer, the only human in the area, stood in his corner, eyes sweeping at the rarely-changing crowd of Ghouls that came to and went from the bar. He occasionally glanced at Ahzrukhal, wary for his commands.

Though the daily routine sucks, and has sucked for the past three years, it was better than the alternative, when, for example, Ahzrukhal demands something other than Sawyer's muscle in the bar, something…grimmer…always grimmer.

As if he'd jinxed the minor blessing of said routine, a girl walks in, human too.

Great…Just great. This is exactly what he was afraid of. **Exactly**. Wow! Look how that worked out.

Maybe nothing will happen. Maybe Ahzrukhal will let it slide. Maybe he **won't** force this one into a bedroom. Maybe he won't force **Sawyer** to force her into a bedroom. Maybe…

_'__Maybe my ass!' _Sawyer thought, frustration tightening his chest. Who was he kidding? It was Ahzrukhal. He'd never let a chance with the smoothskins slide.

Wrong.

It was wrong…on so…so many levels. So wrong.

Oh, how Sawyer wished he could aim Chuck (His Shotgun's name. Yes, there's a reason.) at Ahzrukhal's head, pull the trigger, and let it rip. How he dreamed countless times of that bastard's brain-matter spilled across the floors, smeared across the walls, dangling from the ceiling. He deserved nothing less.

Or…maybe…if he could put Chuck to his own head…be over with it…all of it.

If only.

At the threshold of the Ninth Circle, Jessica discreetly attempts to calm her wandering eyes at the number of Ghouls that surrounded her. It was innocent amazement and curiosity, but she was aware they did not like being stared at, so her glances were quick and breezy.

She'd only met one Ghoul, Gob, and that was all the way back at Megaton.

All the way back…

A month.

A month was spent in that so called city. A month to prepare for the journey ahead, for the Wastelands…for her father.

She left the vault for more than just her freedom. She had to find him. How could he leave her behind?

But the Wastelands were no place for Vault dwellers. They were harsh, cruel, and dangerous to a mad level. Fortunately, she was somewhat equipped with a skill-set that helped her manage thus far.

Some of the qualities that she found vastly helpful, were, for example, her expertise in medicine, thanks, of course, to her father's, James, occupation, and her knowledge of computer terminals, knowledge she'd been given by her father's good friend, Stanley.

Things that she was mildly capable of were: lock picking, as she watched her childhood best friend, Amata, pick locks multiple times to sneak around the Vault and against her compressing father's rules, the Overseer of the Vault. Combat was taught to both girls by officer Gomez when they requested he teach them so they were able to defend themselves against Butch and his gang of bullies, the Tunnel Snakes, they called themselves. Use of rifles was self-taught. Jess had come to find that those were the three most used and basic abilities needed to survive the Wastelands, unfortunately, they were not her strongest suits.

Life, it seemed, was easy and cheery in the Vault, though she, like many of the Vault's inhabitants, **loathed** the confinement. So, what happened? Why did her father leave? Why didn't he tell or warn her? Why did the Overseer demand her arrest? She knew why. It was forbidden to open the Vault, and her father did, and, according to Amata, who was the one to help Jess escape, her father had also killed someone in the process.

Jess's thoughts were in shambles. Amata told her the Overseer ordered her arrest. Amata knew her father to sometimes be cruel, especially when furious. She was afraid for Jess. Jess was afraid for herself.

She barely made it out, refusing to acknowledge what could have happened had she let them apprehend her. Would they have made an example out her for the rest to bear?

...Like they did to Jonas...

Miraculously, she made it out.

She could only think of one thing, one person. Her father. She needed to find him, not just because she needed to hear the full story, but also because she was a scared, twenty-one-year-old girl, in need of her father, now more than ever.

In Megaton, a surprisingly close-to-the-Vault settlement, she'd grown to know a number of people that had lend her a helping hand. There was Megaton's sheriff, Lucas Simms. The man's manners when they'd first met greatly put her at ease. He welcomed her, warned her to stay out of trouble, and showed her to the Common House. She now resided in a small house he'd offered her after she'd successfully disarmed the bomb that had buried its form in the heart of the city. There was Lucy West, the second person she'd met in Megaton. Her and Billy Creel were, after a month's time, her closest friends. There was Jericho, who occasionally spared the three a word of mock, but he seemed to hold a sense of pessimistic wisdom to him. His tips about the Wasteland and its contents were always useful and almost essential to Jessica. There was Doc Church, whom Jess had paid more visits to, out of necessity, than she'd liked. There was Moira Brown, who was the main source of caps for Jess, her and her bizarre requests that, completing only four, had given Jess a good sum of caps. There were Gob and Nova who worked at Moriarty's bar, friends of Jess's as well, but not as close. Lastly, there was Colin Moriarty himself. Simply put, he was an ass, and everyone knew it, but the man did have a good ear. If there were rumors about, he'd either heard them, or made them. Apparently, he knew Jess's dad…and mom. Though all she'd requested was the location of her father, which he eventually gave, he also stated, quite inappropriately, that he had a thing for her mom, something Jess quickly retaliated to with a punch to his face, that he laughed off. Jess was not one of violence, but he was the type to bring the worst out of people. Had he not had said-thing for her mom, he probably would have retaliated that punch.

And so, after a month of all of that crazy, here she was, back on a month-cold trail. After an exhausting trip to the Galaxy News station, and a pointless conversation with a man named Three Dog, Jess found herself in the city mall, infested with giant Super-Mutants that she barely snuck past, on search for the Museum of Technology to retrieve for Three Dog a satellite relay dish component in exchange for the next location of her father, who seemed to be on the constant move. Just her luck. Though, a month **did** pass, he obviously must've moved.

In desperate need of a break, and in fear of the Mutants, she stumbled upon the Underworld, a city of Ghouls resided in the Museum of History. Warily, Jess had head in in search for rest, trade, food, a bathroom, a bed, and a strong drink. The drink being her last and final priority, leads us to now…

XXXXX


	2. 2: Horrific

Jess walks into the bar, making her way to the Ghoul bartender in a suit. After tossing her back-pack near her legs, she slides on a bar-stool, and becomes tense when Ahzrukhal turns to her wide-eyed, then smirks, giving her a once over as he leaned an inch forward on the surprisingly clean counter.

Jess does not cringe at his sight. Spending so much time with Gob had enforced the fact that they were still people into her brain. Her heart felt shame for the slight disgust she once held for their kind, but she'd succeeded in ridding herself of it, and managed to get used to their look. However, the look in Ahzrukhal's eyes seemed to scream trouble.

She ignored it as he spoke. "Well, hello there. And what'll you be having, gorgeous?" he asks, smirking still. That smirk seemed intent on staying. She could wipe it off his face, she guessed. Maybe when he starts pushing it.

"Whiskey," she simply said, putting a tired hand through her shoulder-length, dark brown hair, breaking eye contact as she bent down to grab some caps from her bag.

"Comin' right up," Ahzrukhal replies, facing the counter behind.

Pulling out, Jess gets the sudden feeling she's being watch. She turns her head,

and sees **him**.

A human!

He was tall-no-**huge**; That was the word. He had long, oak-brown hair, and beard. He was armored in heavy, though worn-out, leather. A rifle of a sort was poking out behind his head, strapped to his back. His arms, muscles bulging, were crossed, and one long leg was against the wall. He looked relaxed, but when she caught his gaze, it was intense, sharp, and it was directly fixated upon her.

It sends chills up her spine, and strikes slight fear in her heart.

"Here you are, gorgeous," Ahzrukhal says, the sound of glass against stone heard as he pushed the bottle towards her. Snapped out of concentration, Jess turns to Ahzrukhal, who could see the puzzled look on her features, wary even.

The moment she turned away, Sawyer set his gaze elsewhere, all too aware that Ahzrukhal was glaring at him suspiciously.

If only he could tell her to her to run before the pig made up his mind. If only he could warn her straight out.

"Thanks," Jess retorts absently, pushing the caps towards him. He greedily accepts them as she raises the bottle to her lips and takes a quick gulp. She then, after setting it down, turns to Sawyer again. This time, he's looking away. Ahzrukhal, catches her. Seeing she seemed more concerned than interested, as most people are of Sawyer, his smirk returns.

"Don't worry about him, he's harmless, unless I tell him to be otherwise," Ahzrukhal smugly says. At his voice, Jessica turns to him. She takes a minute to process what he'd said.

"…Who is he? I mean, why is he the…only human here?" she asks strangely. Ahzrukhal shrugs.

"There's no specific reason for the latter, as for who he is, his name is Charon. He's…a loyal employee," Ahzrukhal explains. Worriedly, she asks:

"Loyal employee? What do you mean?"

"I hold his contract, which makes me his employer. He will do what I ask, **when** I ask, without question,"

There was something about the way he said that last statement that struck a memory in Jess's brain.

One of the things that had caught Jess's attention most since being out of the Vault was the apparent return of the slavery system. The idea disgusted her to her very core, especially when she further thought about it, and furthermore, when Jericho decided to share with her, during the time that conversation had started between her, Lucy, and Billy, some colorfully disturbing stories about actual slavers he'd known and the things they'd do to their slaves, the things they'd make their slaves do…

To have that kind of control over someone, to **force** it. To have no regard for their feelings, wants, **thoughts** even!

…It was horrific.

She locks instant, accusing eyes with Ahzrukhal's curious ones. "So, he's your slave?" she asks in a highly disapproving tone.

"No, no," Ahzrukhal shakes his head and hands dismissively. "Sweetheart, you insult me. I do not **believe** in slavery. It is an **abomination**. No. You see, Charon grew up around a very **interesting** group of individuals. They... well, I guess you could say that they **brainwashed** him." Jess's eyes go wide. "He is absolutely loyal to whomever holds his contract. Unfailing, unflinching, until the day that employment ends," he explains.

As Ahzrukhal starts to ramble about how he assumes Sawyer probably hates him, the cogs in Jess's mind start to turn. Too many thoughts were being pushed into her mind at once, quickly.

A **slave**!

He's **human**!

**Brainwash**?!

Contract.

Loyal to the…**contract**.

Set him **free**!

How? **How**?!

History. History **books**. Slaves were freed by paining off their debts.

The contract.

…Ahzrukhal…

…

"How much for that contract?"

Jess asks.

Ahzrukhal immediately shuts up, staring at her as if attempting to confirm what he'd heard. He lets out a short laugh. "Are you serious?" he humorously asks.

She raises her eyebrows expectantly.

The smirk falls off Ahzrukhal's face, momentarily,

then returns.

He leans forward once more.

From behind, in that corner, Sawyer tenses. Why was she still talking to him?!

To Sawyer, Ahzrukhal seemed amused, which probably meant he was flirting, and she didn't even seem insulted!

…

Maybe she was a whore.

…

Well, at least that would save him the trouble of getting involved.

As Sawyer wondered why in the world a woman would willingly put herself in such a position, the real conversation between the two opposite him resumed.

"Well," Ahzrukhal starts, "he is a highly valuable **asset** to me **and** to the Ninth Circle…What did you have in mind?" He asks. She did not expect him to leave the first number to her. How much did she have? Around five thousand, and counting. Ironic, how easy it was to find caps around dead bodies.

That thought threw a flashback at her, of the first person she'd…**killed**…Yet another reoccurring nightmare to thank the Wastelands for.

Shaking it off, she begins to calculate a small, but convincing sum.

"…One thousand," she offers. Ahzrukhal scoffs, unimpressed. She frowns.

"**Two**," he insists. Her eyes light up with the fact that it didn't eat up all her money. She could make it with three. She once did, with less even.

"Deal," she smiles. It takes Ahzrukhal a moment to accept the fact that she actually agreed as she bent again to retrieve her cap-packs. She brings out four small ones, each with five hundred that she'd personally counted in. Ahzrukhal's eyes gleam with euphoria.

She opens them one by one, and shows him their contents.

Sawyer furrows his eyebrows in grand confusion at the exchange.

Ahzrukhal reaches out to take a bag. Jess blocks his movement. "The contract," she says. Ahzrukhal smirks. He didn't get many smart ones around. Her wit certainly was refreshing.

"Ah, yes. I'll be right back," he says. He then walks back to the door at the end of the bar, enters, and closes it behind him.

Jess turns to look at Sawyer, and finds his gaze on her once more. She smiles, knowing what was about to happen.

Sawyer furrows his eyebrows at her, arms still crossed. _'Crazy bitch,'_ was all that his mind thought at her smiling-for-no-reason face.

Ahzrukhal returns. Sawyer does not notice when he slides the contract across the counter to Jess. As Jess looks over the piece of paper, Ahzrukhal rechecks the money.

Seeing it then, Sawyer doubts it is what he thought it was.

…Could it be?

Jess looks over the paper. She furrows her eyebrows. Most of the words were almost incoherent. The sheet looked incredibly worn out, like it had been handled by a hundred men over the course of ten years alone.

It did not matter. It meant his freedom.

Freeing someone from something as such, something than never should be again, that never should have come back.

Something awful.

At Ahzrukhal's sudden laughter, Jess looks up to see joy mixed with greed in his eyes that were darting between each bag of caps. He then locks his eyes with hers. "Oh, it has been a pleasure doing business with you, miss…" he draws.

"Jessica," Jess replies dismissively.

"Jessica," Ahzrukhal repeats, as if testing the name. "That is a…delicious name," he smirks, the joy in his eyes replaced with unmistakable lust. Jess grimaces, regretting informing him with her name. "I'll go stack these babies up," he says, picking up the pouches. "Why don't you go ahead and share the news with him yourself?" he suggests absently, heading off once more.

Jess smiles. She rises, slings her bag across one shoulder, grabs the contract, and turns to meet Sawyer's expectant gaze.

XXXXX


	3. 3: Easy? Not So Not

Sawyer eyes the brunette in confusion as she approached him with a smile. Had it not been the fact that she had conversed with Ahzrukhal before approaching him, he wouldn't have given her a second glance, if she were standing a foot away.

"Good news, you're free to go," she says, raising the unmistakable **contract** up between her index and middle finger. Sawyer's eyes widen momentarily.

So it's true…Really?

"You purchased my contract from Ahzrukhal?" he asks for certainty. Jess gives him a firm nod, humming in confirmation.

It felt good, really good, what she'd just done.

Sawyer takes a moment to accept the end of his hellish journey with Ahzrukhal, not like the previous were any better, not like the next one would be better. Nevertheless, this one was over.

Suddenly, that dream didn't seem so farfetched anymore.

Sawyer inhales a breath of anticipation. His gaze falls upon the woman opposite him once more, intense and heavy, though he did not mean it to be. "One moment, please. There's something I need to take care of," he tells.

"Yeah. Of course," Jess nods as he starts walking off, her still wary of his intimidating…everything.

Sawyer walks up to Ahzrukhal, who had just returned from stacking the caps and was smiling at him. "Come to say goodbye?" Ahzrukhal smirks, spreading his arms wide in pride.

A grim smirk grows on Sawyer's face. "Goodbye…Ahzrukhal," he says,

then

pulls Chuck from his back, levels it,

and, before Ahzrukhal could react, lets a shot

rip through the bastard's head.

…

From force, Ahzrukhal falls back, crashing into the behind cupboard.

Bottles sway and fall, glass crashing on the ground.

The crowd gasps.

Jess gasps.

Sawyer stands, as still as a statue,

unfazed.

Then, he moves.

Sawyer, with Chuck still leveled, rounds the counter, letting his eyes feast at the sight of Ahzrukhal's body, or what was left of it. Triggering Chuck, he shoots said-body again.

The crowd, stunned, stares, silent, terrified to speak.

Satisfied, Sawyer descends the weapon, fixes it behind his back.

His eyes catch sight of his surroundings.

Brain matter,

on the floors, walls, and ceiling.

Seemed dreams do come true after all…

Sawyer walks back to Jessica, who was as shocked as everyone else was, though some of those present had anticipated that moment to have occurred someday.

"Wh-what the hell was that?!" Jess asks him in bewilderment. He could see, she had one shaking hand on her hoisted pistol. She was smart enough to worry. Good. Maybe the sour end of his previous employer would teach his new one a thing or two about how to behave.

"He deserved it. Ask anyone around here, and they'll tell you the same thing," he states.

Jess's eyes fall to the crowd who, to her, merely seemed just as worked-up and wary as she was…but they were looking at her as well. She inhales tensely, noting her threatening position, though she was misreading the shock in their eyes with accusation. They were just shocked, and that would soon die down, and they too would be relieved with the absence of that bastard.

"Let's go," Jessica tells him absently, alerted by those around her.

"Lead the way," he nods casually.

And just like that, he was back to following idiots around.

…He made his peace with this life a long time ago…not like he could do anything about it.

XXX

Rushing out of the Underworld, Jess stops half-way through the atrium, and turns to Sawyer. He stops as well. "Okay. Here," she says, pushing the contract towards him. Sawyer furrows his eyebrows momentarily, then eyes her knowingly.

Of course she was nervous about being his new employer after the stunt, **necessary** stunt, he pulled off with Ahzrukhal.

He shakes his head at her. "I cannot accept the contract," he says. Jess eyes him in grand confusion. For a full minute, she just gawks at him, before finally speaking.

"Wh-What do you mean?! I'm-I'm **giving** you the contract. I'm…giving you your **freedom**!" she exclaims. Sawyer suppresses an eye-roll.

"You may give my contract to another, but you cannot give it to me…I am not meant to be free," he says so simply, so casually, it takes Jess another minute to process what she was hearing.

Was he being serious?!

He seemed to be…

Not meant to be free?! What the hell was that supposed to mean?!

She paid **two** **thousand** caps for his freedom!

…Recalling why she did it, the money didn't matter.

She would still do it.

Another way.

Her thoughts start racing. Her eyes dart at seemingly invincible ideas presented one by one before her eyes. "What if I…cut the contract up?" she asks. Sawyer shrugs.

"Makes no difference. It is the matter of my employment. The contract is meaningless," he retorts.

Heard from the outside, were shots being fired.

The mutants.

Willow was still fighting them off, it seemed.

This immediately reminds Jess what she'd originally came to do.

"Do you, uh, do you know where the Museum of Technology is?" she asks suddenly. Sawyer is slightly confused by the sudden switch of topic, but answers nevertheless.

"Yes," he nods, straightening up.

Time to get to work, it seemed.

"Can you tell me where it is?"

"To the west of here."

"Okay," she nods. With that bit of needed info accepted, her thoughts refocused on him. She slides both thumbs under her bag's shoulder-straps, subconsciously removing some weight off her sour shoulder, balancing herself on her other foot. She looked physically worn out. Sawyer notices.

She seemed…weak…to him, small. Not just in size, in place, like one push, from literally anyone or anything in the Wastelands, could put her to the ground. What the hell was she doing all the way out here?!

Where did she come from?

"Is there any way to set you free?" she urgently asks, needing to go. He locks eyes with hers once more.

"No," he tells plainly. She cocks a surprised eyebrow.

"What if I **order** you to be free?!" Sawyer shortly inhales in annoyance. To have to explain…ugh.

"Due to the conditions of life post-war, I am required to be in presence of my employer at all times."

"And if I ask you to leave me alone?!"

"I would be obliged to, but would eventually set off to return after several hours to insure your safety."

"God!" she lets out in disbelief. He remains still. Her mind wanders back to what Ahzrukhal had said…Brainwash…The things those bastards would have done, to insure…

…It was wrong…

Like a computer, he sounded, when he spoke. As if they'd…programed him!

It was wrong.

Her eyes soften.

Broken.

They broke him…

"…What did they do to you?" she quietly asks in sorrow. Sawyer ignores the pity in her words. He was not meant to let the tension, or anything, he felt at hearing that show. Not only did he refuse to, but he was so used to dismissing his emotions, and keeping on a straight face, it had become the norm for him. So, with that same plain expression, he answers.

"I am meant to protect and serve my employer," he replies calmly.

"You are meant, to do whatever the hell you want," she tells firmly, taking an emphasizing step towards him.

Sawyer is unable, this time, to keep his confusion from showing.

…It had been so, **so** long, since he'd seen someone hold this much…humanity.

…

Did she just crawl out of a Vault?!

…Yes…but he didn't know that.

Sawyer pulls his thoughts together.

One person's opinion doesn't change anything…**She**…doesn't change anything.

"…No…I'm not," he says, inching forward, as if attempting to convince a five-year-old that Santa wasn't real.

…The seriousness of the situation strikes her. She looks away from his gaze, thinking. After a minute, it seemed she'd finally accepted it.

She hadn't.

"There has to be a way," she insists surely, suddenly lost in deep thought, with one hand on her hip. Sawyer suppresses a sigh of irritancy, and, instead, says:

"If there is, then I am unaware of it," he retorts, crossing his arms. She locks eyes with his again, still lost in thought though.

"Maybe Lucy, or Jericho might know something…Or my dad," she says, a look of hurt flashing across her eyes at the mention of her father, a look that he noticed.

Megaton. She needs to get there.

But she left for a reason! She was **here**, for a reason.

Her father. She was looking for him.

She'd come this far…she wasn't leaving without what she came for.

"I…need to get to the museum. There's something I have to get, and I'm not leaving without it," she says. Sawyer nods, content that they would finally move and end this pointless conversation.

"Let's go," he nods, straightening again.

"No," she says firmly. He stops, masking his annoyed confusion. "It's…it could be dangerous. I can't ask you to risk your life for something **I** have to do," she tells shortly.

However, almost immediately, her mind shouts out a plea: _'No! It is dangerous out there! Take him with you!' _Then she feels her stomach clench. She was afraid. Afraid of getting back out there, alone, **again**.

Her fear was so clear; he could see it. Still, she said nothing, though he knew, could almost hear her ask him to come with her.

…Pathetic…

Mehh, at least she was nice. It would be a real shame for her to die so soon, and him to have to find a new, probably worse employer.

Sawyer moves an inch towards her, grasping her full, wary attention, and he knows she's got a hand on her pistol again, a fact that still pleased him. _'At least she's not stupid,' _he thought.

"I'm not easy to put down," he states firmly. She gulps nervously. Her thoughts shout out another plea supported by his obvious, stated fact.

…

"Okay,"

she finally agrees. "Let's go."

XXXXX


	4. 4: Two Guns Two Minds

As the two exit the museum, Willow, who had been routinely pacing, turned and, seeing them, approached them suspiciously. She let her cigarette drop and stomped it as she took a stop across them as Jess, observing the look on Willow's face, awaited what she had to say.

"Not to come off as nosy, but what've you got Charon following you around for? Ahzrukhal tell him to give you an escort, or something?" Willow asked. Jess is unable to determine whether Willow was speaking from jealousy…or concern…

"Um, no. He…Ahzrukhal…" Jess subconsciously throws an accusing, fleeting glance Sawyer's way. She does not fix her gaze in honest fear of his response to it.

Willow catches the glance, but does not understand much. Sawyer does too, and casually holds to silence.

Jess quiets, and Willow remains confused, so after an irritating moment of persistent silence, Sawyer answers for her. "He sold her the contract, then I killed him," he nonchalantly says. Both women turn to him wide-eyed. Nervously, Jess looks away once more.

"I…Wow!...He's…He's really…dead?!" Willow stutters as her mind processes the words told, the information given.

Jess is surprised by Willow's neutral, almost excited, reaction to that, causing her to think back to when Sawyer had stated that everyone knew Ahzrukhal deserved nothing less than death…Seemed he was being honest. Though this scarcely reassured her, she did not wish this reoccurring topic to be constantly brought back up if she was to travel all the way back to Megaton with him.

"Yeah," Jess sighs, semi-in relief semi-in tension. Willow turns to her. Sawyer observes Jess discreetly, assessing what kind of person he'd be forced to serve for the upcoming who knew how long.

Recalling what she would do once in Megaton with him, Jess asked Willow: "I don't suppose you know of a way to…free him…Charon." Sawyer rolls his eyes at that. It takes Willow a minute to comprehend Jess's request, then she furrows her eyebrows.

"Um, no. Sorry. Did you ask **him**?" she retorts, pointing a glance Sawyer's way.

"Yeah," Jess sighs again. Catching sight of a far off Super-Mutant, Jess says: "We should get going…It was nice meeting you, Willow," she smiles tiredly.

"You too, tourist," Willow replies neutrally.

Jess moves, and Sawyer follows. "Bye, Charon!" Willow calls. He, with his back to her as he and Jess walked, does not reply. Jess is confused with his silence. Was he simply rude? That wouldn't surprise her after the thing with Ahzrukhal.

She clears her throat before speaking. "Okay, so you said you know the way to the Museum of Tech?" she asks him. He does not look at her when speaking.

"Yes."

"Well, lead the way."

XXX

"Shit! Come on!" Jess curses. It seemed getting noticed by the Mutants was bound to happen, and it finally had. Fortunately, immediately, Jess and Sawyer rushed inside the Museum of Technology.

In extreme fear and haste, Jess knelt down, placing two mines and, refusing to use her last, on the ground and activating them. Sawyer was beside her, shotgun leveled at the heavy metal door which, despite its build, the fact that it was ancient would do little to assist them.

"Okay, find cover!" she tells as she herself runs, pulling out the rusty Assault Rifle strapped to her back. Sawyer positions himself opposite her location, closer to the door. Shotguns weren't made for long-range.

A heavy but too short-of-a-moment passes before a Mutant bursts effortlessly into the doors and,

followed by a hasty beeping,

explodes into a dozen green and bloody chunks and pieces!

At the insane sight, Jess gasps, feeling adrenaline pump through her veins.

Sawyer is unfazed by the incident, mostly annoyed by the loud noise. He remains firmly still, waiting.

Sure enough, two more appear at the doorway. He skillfully fires one right in the head, distracting the other long enough for Jess to place several quick and pointed shots from her rifle.

"Let's go!" she quickly tells, hurriedly entering the nearest hallway, knowing that more would come due to the commotion, and hoping they would retreat when neither her nor Sawyer are in sight.

She, with rifle still in hand, runs through and takes several turns, Sawyer close behind. When she felt she was far enough, she stopped, took a minute to listen for footsteps, heard none, then slid down a wall and attempted to calm her breathing and clear her head.

Sawyer remains stationed by the doorway.

"I **really**…hate those guys," she utters breathlessly. Sawyer momentarily glances at her, then refocuses.

She turns to look at him. "Hey," she calls. He turns expectantly. "They're loud and clumsy; we'll hear them coming. Sit. Catch your breath," she tells. Sawyer lowers Chuck and does as told, resting his back on the wall as well. Though he appreciated the opportunity, he couldn't refuse if he wanted to. But meh. He made his peace with that too. **Jess** wasn't aware of the former. "Though, it doesn't look like you need it," she smirks. He does not reply, gun still held in caution as he listened deeply for noise. Jess frowns at his silence. She feels guilt gnaw at her. "…I'm sorry I dragged you into this," she utters quietly. Sawyer suppresses another eye roll, but remains silent. She assumes he agrees with the fact that she's the reason he's in this mess, and feels her stomach twist and clench. She was about to tell him to leave, that she could handle it, but was reminded by the fact that she couldn't and he wouldn't. How the heck did she get herself into **that** mess?!

As she contemplated her crappy life, her eyes caught sight of a terminal far off on a wall. Her heart jumps in anticipation, and mind hardens in concentration as she rises to her feet, further triggering Sawyer's caution.

The terminal was basically a guide program around the museum. As if she'd found a treasure map. X marks the spot.

She smiled, and turned to Sawyer, who had his eyes fixated on a spot on the ground as he listened for movement.

"Hey," she called. He turned in compliance. "I know where we need to go. Come on."

XXX

"Once I have what I need, we'll be out of here before you know it. I'm sure my friends in Megaton ca-" Jess is cut off when Sawyer shoves her into the wall and slams a hand on her mouth, all the while being cautious, considering she still seemed physically to him as fragile glass. Her eyes widen at him in a mixture of shock, confusion, and certain fear. He hurriedly put a finger to his lips in a sign of silence as he then pointed to the end of the hall.

She looks. Though unable to see anything, she could hear them…the Super-Mutants, speaking, more rumbling. She locked eyes with Sawyer once more, and nodded in understanding. Satisfied, he removed his hand, and quietly reached for Chuck as she scoured a deep pouch strapped to her utility-belt, revealing three or so smoke-grenades. She shows them to him, and he nods, signaling for her to take lead.

Jess steadily, or as steady as she could be what with how terrified she was, moves forward to the hall's threshold. She removes the pins from each grenade one by one, and rolls them as far as she could into the room.

Almost immediately, the room fogs up, and loud words of shock, confusion, and nervousness were uttered by the Mutants.

With a sudden feeling of dominance, Jess pulls out her rifle and starts shooting at where she remembered she could see them. Though still cautious, Sawyer joins in on the moment of having the upper-hand in battle.

Feeling the rifle vibrate with every shot was strangely satisfying to Jess, especially sided with the fact that she highly disliked violence. But vengeance was sweet, vengeance for the cruel, unreasonable violence that Mutants, and most who inhabited the Wastelands, provided.

After what felt like forever, but did not actually pass three minutes, the yelling stopped, and the fog cleared. Jess and Sawyer took cover behind the wall, patient for retort. None came, so Jess cautiously peeked out.

…Nothing

Nothing but a pile of giant, bloody, armored, green bodies.

Slowly still, Jess moves out, with Sawyer readied behind her steps, switching view from side to the other warily.

After insuring they were alone, they somewhat relaxed, but not too much. Jess stood towering one of the bodies, eyeing it with disgust, actual disgust. It looked **gross**!

Giving no thought to their giant weapons, that she was certain she would be incapable of carrying, Jess kneeled beside the body reluctantly to search it for caps. She winced and cringed in utter disgust at the feel, the sights, and smells, but fortunately did not come up empty handed. She smiled at the ten or so caps she'd emitted from its pocket, momentarily having the smell disappear before she was aware of it again, causing her to re-rise.

As she turned and caught sight of Sawyer, who was still scouring about, she said: "Feel free to search the bodies and take what you want." She could not comprehend why every time he locked eyes with hers, her heart would jump in fear, and her mind would scream to run. She calmed a bit when he re-strapped his gun, and did as told. At least this time, he had a choice considering her way of words. He was indifferent to the fact, still.

Before getting the chance to search another body, Jess caught sight of what she came for. Her eyes lit up. Virgo II Spacecraft, and the communication relay dish right on it.

Reaching into a smaller pocket in her utility-belt, she pulled out a screw-driver, and rushed towards the device. With little difficulty, she managed to pry off the dish, and smiled victoriously.

Behind her, Sawyer, was done looting, and was leaning against a table, gun back in hand and looking about. Jess took off her bag, pulled out a rope, strapped the satellite to the bag, and put it on once more. She now had to carry the rifle, as there as was no space for it. She turned to Sawyer. "Okay. Let's get the hell out of here," she said. He simply eyes her expectantly, waiting for her to move on so he could follow.

She approaches him and stops, and he wonders what she'd say then. "Think we should go back the way we came, or try and find a back-door?" she asks. It takes him a minute to answer. She finds his silence, as is himself in general, intimidating.

"I think venturing further inside, we may find more Mutants, and I think heading outside, we would still find Mutants," he answers plainly and honestly, straightening up and flexing those god-forsakenly huge arms.

"Well, aren't you a ray of sunshine," she smirks sarcastically. He does not reply, and keeps a plain expression, which weirds her out. "**Okay**, back the way we came then," she says weirdly, moving past him.

XXXXX


	5. 5: Worse Than Expected

With luck momentarily on their side, they made it out without notice. The Washington Monument was quite close, guarded by the Brotherhood of Steel solely for the sake of the much loved and listened to Galaxy News Radio.

"Hold," the protected-by-power-armor, armed guard held out his hand at them. "Don't come any closer," he warned plainly. Sawyer, though was certain there was no need, was still fully ready to bring out Chuck if needed. Who knew, maybe his new employer was a sociopath. Maybe she seemed nice, but could really snap at any minute and go on a killing spree.

Hey, it's happened before.

In truth, Jess, honestly scared of getting shot by the testy guard with a machine gun, spoke hastily. "Three Dog sent me. I'm supposed to deliver something." She unstraps her bag, unties the dish as the guard watches her cautiously, well, mainly watches Sawyer, considering how threatening he looked.

Recognizing what the girl was offering, the guard relaxed, and casually took it from her as she handed it to him, explaining, though he knew, what it is. "It's a communication dish."

"I know what it is. Great. Your service is appreciated. Now be on your way," he retorted, taking the dish from her and resting it by his leg, staring, clearly waiting for them to leave.

Jess widens her eyes tiredly. "Okay," she says awkwardly, kneeling and packing the rope in, then snatching her water bottle before slinging the bag over her shoulder.

Sawyer wanted to ask if he could carry it for her, but he was not allowed to speak unless asked to. Of course, she didn't know that.

As she opened it and started moving, mumbling a quiet 'rude', she glanced at Sawyer. "Do you have any water?" she asked before taking a sip. He nodded, pulling a bottle out from behind him. He hands it to her. She furrows her eyebrows at him, capping her bottle, then speaking once more. "For **you**," she clarifies. Confused whether or not she was ordering him to drink, he does. She eyes him strangely, and glances at his back to find his shotgun.

That's it.

Just his shotgun.

She turns to him perplexedly. "Where's your stuff?" she asked. As he repacked the bottle, he spoke, presenting no eye-contact.

"In Underworld," he simply gives. She widens her eyes at this.

Jess stands in his path suddenly, blocking it and causing him to stop as he eyed her with a plain expression.

She simply stared at him, as if waiting for him to get how ridiculously stupid he sounded! He gives off no such hope, staring back just as plainly, till she snaps. "**Well**?! Are you just gonna **leave** it there?!"

"You had asked me to follow you. I did not get the chance to retrieve it," he casually retorts. She scoffs in shock.

"So you were very capable of asking for a minute to **shoot** your ex-boss, but were too obedient to get your stuff?!" she questions sarcastically, but quite seriously. His idiocy seemed to shadow his bulkiness, granting her a sense of confidence to speak in such a tone without fearing a physical retort.

"You had not suggested that we move until after I had killed Ahzrukhal, so I did not bring it up."

"And what were you planning to do without your clothes, your ammo, a **spoon**, a **plate**, a **toothbrush** for goodness sake?!"

Sawyer was completely unfazed by her anger, simply assessing what would please her, as was his job. Did he care that he came off as annoying? Nah. His caring, for anything and anyone ended a long time ago, so, this scene of her freaking out, was slightly amusing to him.

It wasn't his fault that all of his previous employers were heartless scum that used him as what he was made to be: a muscle machine. Kindness was foreign to him. Life had hardened him. It was as if he'd forgotten it, forgotten how to react to it, forgotten how to act or speak freely as she seemed to marvel over how he couldn't.

She didn't understand.

"I would have waited for the chance to either loot or purchase replacements," he replied as if stating the obvious. She finds it hard to process whether or not he was being serious…then she realizes he was. Words escape her.

"…Oh wow…Okay. We're **going** back. You're gonna **get** your stuff **and**…" then she stopped herself. What she was about to demand, was that he start acting like a human being!…then she remembered what she'd been told…and spoke no more. Instead, she sighed from tension. Calmed herself, and spoke differently. "Just…let's go get your stuff…"

XXX

"Back so soon?" Willow inquired of them suspiciously.

"Yeah. Uh, forgot something," Jess gives tiredly. She turns to Sawyer. "Go. I'll wait for you here," she told. He wordlessly complies.

Jess stands awkwardly quietly, but it was not long before Willow pushed past the silence. "What happened?" she asks. Jess smiles at the silly truth. Not wanting to openly mock Sawyer, whilst still attempting to convince herself of the truth of his state and situation, she answers shortly: "Uh, he forgot his bag." She scratches her head.

"Forgot? I thought brainwashed people don't forget shit!" Willow retorts. Jess is irritated at the way Willow spoke of him. Though she too found it irritating, at least she kept her thoughts to herself.

"He **didn't**," she clarifies. Willow cocks a confused eyebrow at her contradiction. "He just didn't tell me that he'd left it behind. I had to ask him where his stuff was," she lets the last sentence slip out of penned up frustration. Willow chuckles at her state.

"Well, you didn't have to come back. He would have made due," she tells. Jess furrows her eyebrows at her.

"What'd you mean?"

"I dunno. I mean, Ahzrukhal never really asked him anything, except, you know, order him around. It's what he's meant to do, you know. Kinda like a job; the un-payed kind, hehe." Jess cringes at her words, disgusted by her placidness whilst speaking them. Willow doesn't notice as she takes a drag from her smoke. "Point is: he'll manage, so don't stretch yourself so tight." Jess scoffs tiredly at this.

"Yeah, that's kinda hard to do," she says. Willow eyes Jess irritably. _'Pussy,'_ she thought. What she could do with help like Charon, she wondered, and this idiotic smoothskin was wasting the advantage with sentiment.

Willow's eyes lighten with a seemingly brilliant idea. Now, how to bring it up subtly? "So, here's a crazy idea…Sell his contract…to me. I mean…I got caps…I could pay you up, now or later. Either way, I'll take em off your hands," she told.

For a moment, Jess's eyes went wide…then she actually thought about it…

It sounded…troubling, and she wondered why…Why indeed? It was a fitting solution.

But she'd already been about this…Give him to someone else, and have him treated like a slave? It was the evil she'd attempted to free him of from the start!

But Willow didn't seem…**evil**…Inconsiderate and kind of bitchy maybe, but not evil…

Still…She had a bad feeling.

It felt safer to stick to the original plan; find a way to free him…More accurately: **hope** to find one.

Well, that wasn't very uplifting.

But, morally, it was the right thing to do.

Jess awkwardly smiles at Willow, scouring for words that would not embarrass either of them. She didn't wish to seem naïve, and she didn't want to straight out tell Willow that she didn't trust Sawyer with her.

"You know," she started. It was too late though, Willow was already assuming that Jess was also too dumb to make a straight decision. "I think I'll just stick to…figuring out how to set him free." Willow scoffs.

"Good luck, man," she smirks in mock that Jess could taste. She squints her eyes at Willow.

Everyone was so fucking rude.

The sound of heavy footsteps grasps their attention and they turn to see Sawyer making his way towards Jess. Relief crosses her features. They were finally free to leave!

"Ready?" she asks him, glancing at his bag. He nods in confirmation. "Sure you didn't forget anything?" she asked, refusing to have a reason to come back to Underworld, to **Willow**, again. Sawyer could sense a change in her mood. She was quite easy to read. He wondered what they had discussed while he was away, and fairly assumed it was him. He didn't care enough to wonder what they'd said.

"I did not," he replies. She gives a nod of satisfaction.

"Okay. Let's go…Bye, Willow," she gave shortly, causing Sawyer to easily deduce that Willow was the problem. Now he was curious, but still didn't care enough.

"Adios," Willow retorted.

They moved.

Willow called after her.

"And if you come out empty handed, you know where to find me!" she says. Jess groans quietly in irritation. Sawyer glances curiously at her as they continued moving, and she turned to smile bitterly at Willow over her shoulder.

"Will do!" she gave a short wave before quickening her pace.

XXX

Fifteen minutes later, the two had made their way to the metro station that would lead out of the Mall, and to an area some ways from the GNR building. They enter, and from then, till about ten minutes in, Sawyer notices several scattered bandit bodies about, all with very strange symptoms: White, bubble-like botches across their face and body. Red, dead eyes. A white substance spilled from their mouths. He cringes in disgust, eyes darting about cautiously for the source of this dismay as he brought out Chuck.

Seeing him do so, Jess is momentarily wary of danger he could see and she couldn't, then, noticing where his gaze swept, she laughs nervously, washing a hand through her hair. He turns to her curiously. She doesn't meet his eyes. "It's…You don't have to do that…It…was me…" she sighs the last statement heavily, coming to a stop as she was intent on explaining herself, suddenly worrying he'd shoot her for being an evil person or whatever, especially since hostility was very detectable in his eyes just then…towards her… "Okay, so…I'm not so great with guns. I mean, guns that are **aimed** at me, especially if they're **many**…ummm," she swallows nervously.

A look of comprehension crosses Sawyer's features. Her nervousness and obvious shame and guilt made her intentions clear. Do what you can to survive…How on earth did she accomplish this, though?...Looks like he underestimated her…

She resumes, snapping him out of his assessment. "My dad…was-**is**…" he cocks an eyebrow at that, "a doctor…and a scientist. So…**this**…" she looks about, and cringes as if in pain at her own doing, "this is **how**…" She settles her eyes on him, and find that his gaze had softened. She quietly exhales in relief. He gives a short nod, gun still in hand as he eyed about once more, this time seeming somewhat impressed.

"It's smart," he shortly says. She shakes her head, setting her gaze on the smudged floor.

"It's horrible," she retorts as if stating a fact.

Sawyer eyes her curiously.

He smirked…

It was quick and almost unnoticeable, but he did.

It had been so long…he couldn't even remember how long…since he'd had an employer with this much…humanity.

Ironic, how something so human…had become so rare to find…

Or maybe it was just his crappy luck.

Either way…he liked this one.

"…We do what we have to…to survive…" he tells as if stating the obvious, but sternly still, so she could…**accept** it…She had to…In this world…she **had** to accept what needed to be done.

Jess abruptly turns at that. It takes her a minute to process what he'd said; she was more focused on the way he'd said it…**why** he'd said it.

A small part of her wanted to tell him to drop the act! He was no machine! He seemed considerate…He was giving off, though small, signs of **actual** sympathy. Machines give no such shit off!

Then…she remembered the bag situation, and how he was robotic enough to follow orders without thinking about himself.

Putting one and one together, he seemed to her to only attempt to appease his employer, in both occasions.

This further bothered her.

She frowned.

"Yeah," she uttered quietly, looking to the floor once more. Sawyer assumed she didn't like what he'd said. Meh. Who cares? She then turned to him once more. "Let's keep moving," she shortly said. He nodded, and they went on.

XXXXX


	6. 6: Useless!

"Wait for me here. Catch your breath," Jess tells Sawyer as they enter the GNR building. Sawyer gives her a nod and strolls off in search of a bathroom, and a seat.

The guards within were less than those out in the quarry, and paid Jess no mind, but were wary of her new companion.

Jess climbs up the stairs, and overhears Three Dog's excited giggles and mumbles about the now fully functional radio station. She shakes her head and smirks in slight amusement.

So far, he'd been the first person she'd met in the Wastelands that actually had something to get excited about. At least her lethal trip to the museum seemed not in vain now.

_'__What an asshole,'_ was her first thought when she'd met Three Dog. There she was, exhausted from the hike all the way from Megaton to the GNR building, which was under attack, by the way! requesting the location of her father. The man refused, and went all 'give to take' on her! You'd think he'd ask for something plausible, apparently to him it was, no! He asked for a needle in a hay stack! That stupid dish in that godforsaken museum inside that hell-risen mall!

…But putting all of that aside, it was done. And she'd come out with quite an odd advantage…or disadvantage. She was unsure what he was to her. She was sure she didn't want him on her leash though.

"Glad to see everything's up and running," she speaks to make her presence known. Three Dog turns from his terminal, and grins at the sight of her.

"There she is! My personal hero!" he exclaims as she pulls down her bag and carefully places it on the floor, listening half-heartedly to his speech. "Thanks to you, now GNR can be heard clear across the Capital Wasteland again. That'll give Eden and those Muties something to think about. You oughta know; you helped with the Good Fight," he pointed out as she turned her attention to him, resting her hands in her pockets. She nods in absent content, though evidently small, like she almost didn't care.

"Good to hear, Three Dog. Now it's your turn to help me," she stated expectantly.

"Yes, of course! Of course!" Three Dog nodded, flopping back onto his wheeled chair. She pulled a seat leaned on the wall and sat opposite him, her foot muscles immediately aching in relief. "So, when your dad passed through here, he and I talked for a good long time. He's a real stand-up kind of guy," he starts, leaning forward with elbows on knees. Jess's heart clenches at his short, simple words, and her face scrunches up in pain. Missing him was terribly painful…and scary… "He mentioned some scientific mumbo-jumbo which didn't make sense to me and mentioned something called Project Purity." Three Dog weirdly says. As if the topic was Greek to her, Jess furrows her eyebrows at Three Dog, as if waiting for him to elaborate. "By the look on your face, I'm gonna safely assume you have no idea what the heck that is," Three Dog states. Almost disappointedly, Jess shakes her head.

Day after day she was discovering more of her father's secrets.

Did she know him at all?...

Three Dog awkwardly nods, disappointed as well, but for a different reason. He was hoping to get the scoop on all that was hot and new in the Wastelands from whatever new sources presented. Seemed this family was a dull one. He resumes. "Well, anyways, he also said something about going to visit a Doctor Li in Rivet City. Then, he left in a hurry," he finishes, throwing himself to the back of the chair. Again, Jess furrows her eyebrows. "Rivet city?"

"Yep."

"Well, where is that, exactly?" Three Dog would have been surprised by her ignorance, had he not already known she was a fresh vaultie.

"South-east of here. If you follow the river south, you should be able to get there, but uhhh…"

"…What?"

"Well, the city isn't exactly the safest of places…and you look pretty worn out."

Jess waves a dismissive hand. "I gotta round back to Megaton first anyways…I'll gather my strengths and be on my way. Thanks, Three Dog," she shortly says, rising to get her bag, her muscles and limps aching in resistance that she ignored. He rose as well.

"No, thank you, my friend!"

"Yeah…" Jess breathes in resent. His gratitude was not enough to compensate her hellish journey, and the information he gave was incredibly vague.

Speaking of information.

As she re-strapped her bag, she called: "Hey," turning to him, then momentarily pausing in debate before resuming, "I don't suppose you know anything about…brainwashed mercenaries," she cautiously lowered her tone saying the last two words in fear of being overheard by Sawyer…mainly meaning to spare his feelings.

At the randomness of the question, Three Dog furrowed his eyebrows. "Uhhh, no…Why?" Jess purses her lips before opting to continue. Of all the informed people in the Wastes, surely this one knew something.

"I have a guy downstairs who's…" Three Dog's eyes widen in sudden interest.

"Really?!"

"Yeah," she shortly confirms.

"W…How did you…W-are you sure?"

"Positive," she rolled her eyes at the past events that proved so.

"Well, I gotta see this!" Three Dog exclaims, heading to move down.

Sawyer, who was done 'catching his breath' was nearing Jess's location out of habitual protectiveness.

As he'd moved about the place, the guards' eyes never left him. They spoke in whispers, some wary, some mocking with the assumption that their power-armor would be enough to kick his ass if needed. He paid them no mind, but was cautious nevertheless.

Without shame, he eared in on Jess and Three Dog's conversation, arms crossed and back leaned against the peeling wall below the stairs.

Jess blocks Three Dog's path, glaring heatedly. "He's not for display," she tells as if stating the obvious.

Rudeness was incredibly dominant in the Wastes.

"Do you know anything, or not?" Jess asks impatiently.

"Well…I don't know…Where'd you find him?" had it not been for the sudden look of deep thought on Three Dog's face, she'd have walked out at 'I don't know'.

"Museum of History, or Underworld…Specifically in a bar called the Ninth Circle." This does not assist Three Dog.

"So…what?...he just tagged along?"

"I bought his contract…Thought I could free him." Three Dog grins at this.

"Well, aren't you everyone's hero!" Both Jess and Sawyer roll their eyes at this. "Okay, so what? You wanna know if he's got any secret moves? Any special skills?" he asks in confusion, wondering what exactly it was the woman was asking of him.

"I wanna know how to free him!" Jess clarifies angrily.

"…You…can't?"

"No!" Jess states as if obviously, clearly regretting opening this with him. Again, Sawyer rolls his eyes.

"…Oh…Well…Yeah…As much as it pains me to say: I can't help you with that," Three Dog awkwardly states.

Jess sighs, shaking her head in disappointment.

Everything was so disappointing!

"It's fine. I gotta go," she dismissively says, turning to leave.

"Wait!" Three Dog hurriedly calls, not wanting to lose this super interesting scoop! Reluctantly, she faced him again. "So is his name like…a number? Like…Agent double-o-seven?" he asks with a grin and a child's curiosity.

_'__What an idiot,'_ wonders Sawyer. Irritably confused by Three Dog's words, Jess corrects him with a threat to her tone, having had enough of the way people spoke of Sawyer as if a **thing**! "His name's Charon."

"Charon. You sure that's his real name? Not like…some code-name?"

…

…At that, Jess's curiosity had been pecked.

"…I don't know…" she replies absently, thoughts roaming around the provocative question.

"Well, we could go ask him!" Three Dog enthusiastically suggests. Sawyer's heart panics, feeling as though his privacy was about to be hostile-y invaded, and was grateful when Jess said:

"**Goodbye**, Three Dog." She glares, turning again to leave. He follows her down the stairs.

"Is that a 'no'?!" he called after her.

Jess's eyes glimpse Sawyer leaning against the wall, and says: "Let's go." He nods and straightens.

"Wait up!" Three Dog calls again. Inhaling irritably, Sawyer abruptly turns, as if a door had shut in Three Dog's face. Three Dog actually bumps into Sawyer's wall-sized body, and almost falls back. At the commotion, Jess turns. Confused, Three Dog looks up and his expression is immediately replaced by wonder.

He grins.

"So…you're Charon…" he muses. Jess rushes towards them, wary of Sawyer's sudden unusual behavior. As if suddenly realizing he was casually acting as her bodyguard, she utilizes her dominance as his apparent boss for the sake of keeping anyone from getting hurt.

Somewhat firmly, she grasps Sawyer upper arm. He turns to her, and his gaze almost caused her heart to drop to her feet. Intent on her cause, she locks onto his gaze. "Let's go," she repeats in warning. Her gaze withers though, and she immediately looks away, settling to glare at Three Dog, who was still admiring the thing that was Charon, irritably.

The guards had just started noting that something was off when Sawyer obediently started moving where Jess's hand directed, and she let it drop, turning to leave with him by her side, and Three Dog silently, fearfully, and curiously still, watching…

XXXXX


	7. 7: Friction

After departing the GNR building, hopefully for good, Jess, after a moment of contemplation and silence, decides to ask Sawyer a question she already knew the answer to, wanting to hear his reasons…wanting to see a glimpse of self-control…

She doesn't even know why…

"So…you wanna tell me what that was all about?" she says, keeping her eye on the road. Both were readily armed for danger. It takes Sawyer a minute to comprehend what she was referring to. Getting it, he answers.

"He was inconveniencing you," he states as if it was obvious. It was, she just wanted to hear it from him. Honestly, she didn't gain much…

"Mmm," she hums absently. Sawyer assumes she was pleased with the answer, though he could feel her seemingly ever-lasting tension.

All of a sudden, Jess stops. Noting the halt, Sawyer turns to her curiously. She is staring off in the distance, a mixture of shock and fear painted her face.

Sawyer worriedly furrows his eyebrows.

"What the hell are those?" she uttered. Following her gaze, Sawyer turned.

There, in the further distance, were two Centaurs.

A look of deep concern shows on Sawyers face as well.

The mutated, once human creatures slimed about as quick snails. Some of their many arms, with bone-bits sticking out, were used as legs. Their chubby, bald, slick heads as pink as their caterpillar-bodies. Their expression as if permanently saddened by their state. Worst of all, their tongues. Plural. Tongue**s**. About four, as long as tentacles, and functioned as ones too.

He absolutely despised those things.

Before turning to Jess once more, he insures he held a plain expression so as not to further frighten her.

Still staring, as if frozen in fear, Jess moves with little awareness with Sawyer when he places a hand on her upper-back and beckons her to move as he said: "Come on."

They continued.

The ever-grey skies further greyed. Neither, who were each lost in thought, noticed.

Though dying to ask, and constantly glancing her way, Sawyer remained quiet.

_'_**_Did_**_ she or did she _**_not_**_ just crawl out of a vault?! If not, what the heck is her problem?! Why did she seem and act as if from another time?!' _he thought.

After losing the will to ignore his heavy gaze, Jess tiredly asked: "What is it, Charon?" Suddenly worrying he'd displeased her, Sawyer politely spoke, though politeness and shamefulness were masks he often wore, he never truly felt them.

"If it would not inconvenience you, I would like to ask you a question," he said. Jess smirked in amusement at his words, shooing away the nightmarish images of the Centaurs, which she refrained from asking him about, accepting that there were many demonic creatures in the Wastes.

"No, it would not inconvenience me. You asking me anything would not inconvenience me, Charon. Speak to me whenever you want, and ask me whatever you want," she tells as if repeating an obvious fact. Sawyer is pleased with the minimal freedom of speech.

He smiles.

It was quick, and almost unnoticeable,

but he did…

A small surge of excitement rushed through him. It had been very, very long since he'd been able to enjoy free speech.

But…he did not want to naively give up his hopes.

This was temporary, so yes he'd enjoy it, but wouldn't dare believe it would last.

At the stretched silence, Jess curiously turns to him, and he immediately looks away as he asks: "Are you from a vault?" Jess chuckles.

"Is it that obvious?"

"Yes," Sawyer plainly replies. Jess cocks an eyebrow at his bluntness, then laughs out again. Sawyer is unsure when he had sounded funny. Jess continues to laugh, till she took a short gasp that didn't sound like laughter, and she put a fist to her mouth as they continued down the path. Sawyer cocked an eyebrow at her, wondering what kind of laughter ended with a shortness of breath, then he saw that her amused expression was replaced with one of

deep…pain…

and even then, she continued walking. She sniffed, eyed about and blinked, what seemed like tears, several times away.

"We should…ummm," she started in a broken voice that she quickly tried to bury by swallowing the lump in her throat. "We should stop here for the night," she finished, gaze fixed on an abandoned looking, two-story house. "Come on, and keep an eye out."

Wordlessly, Sawyer followed, brushing off her strange and sudden behavior.

He hadn't met a vault dweller in forever. Maybe they were all weird.

With weapons in hand, the two cautiously stole towards the withering building.

Making her way to the off-white door, she is stopped by a heavy hand on her shoulder, and immediately snapped, but eased when she'd confirmed it was only Sawyer, eyeing her intently as he set her aside and took lead.

She let him.

They enter. The heavy smell of dust consumed their senses. They could actually see dust particles swimming in the air. There was a stench of something else,

maybe **death**.

The place was, as most abandoned houses were, in dismay. Broken or breaking furniture spread ominously about. Different colored smudges of mud and blood decorated the floors, walls, even ceiling.

They cringe.

Sawyer warily looks around, and she does the same. Clearing the first floor, Sawyer heads up stairs as Jess closes and blocks the door with a chair that was sure to make noise should someone break in.

Startled by a shot emitted on the upper level, Jess storms up the ancient stairs. Looking for signs of Sawyer with rifle in hand, Jess finds him in the main bedroom, smoke steaming up from his shotgun's hot muzzle that was aimed at a freshly killed Radroach.

She eases up, and tiredly sighs as she semi-collapsed against the door's frame, pulling off her bag and throwing it onto the ground with a thud. Sawyer carefully studies her, uncertain if she was about to faint. Weakly cradling her rifle, she says: "I'll be in the bathroom." She disappears from his sight behind the wall.

Shutting the creaky, paper-like door behind her, Jess leans on it for support. Her heart found difficulty beating at a normal pace, as if danger was still imminent. Her head pounded. She felt as light as a feather, easily pushed by the surrounding air from side to the other.

She made her way to the sink with unnecessary hardship, turned its rusty wheel with shaky hands. With a cringed face, she sprayed the questionable water across her iced skin, wincing at the collision. She then turned it off and eyed herself in the broken, dusty mirror opposite her.

She noticed her eyes were red. The tears she'd been trying all day to keep at bay were disobeying her will to keep hidden.

As if seeing themselves encouraged them to further rush down her dirt-smudged cheeks, and breathing became all the more difficult. She gasped, then covered her mouth with her hand. Her eyes squeezed shut, but it was not sufficient to keep the tears at bay.

All day, she'd been terrified. There was not a moment when she wasn't aware of the need to look over her shoulder in fear of very real danger.

How desperate was she, to roam foreign territories alongside a stranger, to have to face cruelty, and rudeness, from every other window?

The one person, the only family she had left…abandoned her

like discarded scrap…

What was she even doing?...

After removing his own bag, and eyeing the outside of the room's logged up windows, Sawyer scoured the room itself for useful items or loot, and was in the process of doing the same to the remaining rooms but…

strolling through the hall,

he heard

suspicious sounds from the bathroom.

…It was clear as day this time…

she was crying.

…Had it not been for the fact that she was so…How would he put this without sounding pathetic?

Nice.

She was so nice.

It was safe to say that Sawyer wanted to stick around her for as long as possible. So, really, his only priority should be keeping her alive, not comforting her but…

She was just…

too nice…

It was as if the simple acts of kindness she had shown him, that were as scarce as diamonds those days, had chained him to that spot, next to that door, listening to her cries of pain…

What should he do?

Why does he even want to act?

Nah. Put that aside. He will just…

What should he **do**?...

…

After a full minute of mental debate and doubt, Sawyer spoke out. "Mistress. Are you alright?" he asked, insuring he'd kept a neutral tone. Silence immediately followed after his question. Embarrassed that she'd been caught in a moment of weakness, she quickly replied, insuring her tone was also neutral.

"Yeah. I'm okay," she tells loudly and as clearly as she could sound.

Sawyer doesn't buy it, but doesn't argue.

He didn't care enough. Besides; it was none of his business.

Jess's brows suddenly furrow as she washes her face again. She opens the door and faces Sawyer with water dripping skin. "Did you just call me 'mistress'?" she asked in utter confusion. He furrows his eyebrows at her as if strange question, nodding with a hum. "No. No. Jess. My name is Jessica. Most people call me Jess," she spoke as she made her way past him to her bag by the bedroom.

Jess.

It had a ring to it.

It was ironic how he'd spent so many hours with her without even knowing her name.

A thought hits her.

"And speaking of names," she started. Sawyer had a feeling she would bring this up. She rises with a worn out looking towel from her bag and wipes at her face as she spoke. "I'm gonna ask you something, and you don't have to answer if you don't want to…" she stops, placing the hand with the towel on her hip and eyes him seriously. "If it's too personal," she finishes.

Indifferently, Sawyer crosses his arms. "I am obliged to answer any of your questions, provided I know the answer," he casually informed. For some reason, his reply only succeeded in further angering her. She glared menacingly at him.

"No! You!..." she stopped, sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. Sawyer studied her curiously as she collected her wits and spoke more calmly, without keeping eye-contact though. "From now on, whatever questions I ask you, you answer **only if you want to**. Okay?" though speaking firmly, she asked as if offering a suggestion. Despite being somewhat perplexed by the complex order, Sawyer nodded.

"Understood." Anger flashed in her eyes at his formality, but quickly washed away as she exhaled and leaned back down to the bag.

She brought out a medium sized, metallic pot that contained a smaller plastic bowl. She removed the bowl, and the pot seemed to have been blackened by fire. Then she brought out two long, metallic rods. Their tips were scratched in as if to hold up another, thinner rod. She fixed both rods vertically onto the pot, and pushed it towards his feet. He furrowed his eyebrows quizzically. "See if you can start a small fire in this. Use those books or whatever you find," she instructed. Though still wondering about the rods, Sawyer bent, grabbed the pot, and complied.

Jess continued to rummage the bag. She brought out a thin rope, a large metallic clip, and some small, iron scrap. She gathered these objects along with the discarded plastic bowl, and made her way down the stairs.

Though they were common, normal objects, Sawyer wondered curiously what their combination meant, but did not ask, nor did he follow as she disappeared through the hall, and he simply did as was told.

Downstairs, Jess placed the objects on an end-table in the corner near the door. She put the scrap in the plastic bowl. The bowl had a hole pierced through its upper ring. She tied one end of the rope to that, grabbed the other end and the large clip, and made her way to and climbed onto the chair she'd blocked the door with. She grabbed the door, clipped its upper edge and tightly tied the rope to the clip.

She dismounted the chair and eyed her handy work proudly. Should the door move, the bowl would fall, and the collision of its contents with the floor was sure to be formidable alert.

Feeling somewhat secure, Jess re-climbed the stairs, on her way to Sawyer, when she'd glimpsed her rifle still in the bathroom. She took it, and entered the bedroom to where Sawyer had successfully started a fire using two or so old and incomprehensible books. It sent a wave of calmness through her.

As if that calmness wanted to expand, Jess rested the rifle near the door, unbuckled her leather-armor vest from the back, and threw it alongside her bag.

She noticed the falling darkness outside the windows, and decided they would soon call it a night.

She pulled herself and her bag to sit across the fire. She pulled out the expected thinner rod, and a slightly smaller pot with a hook at the top. She fixed the rod on the other vertical two, then hooked the pot over the fire.

Sawyer smirked.

She did not notice as she brought out a box of BlamCo Mac & Cheese and a can of Pork n' Beans. She ripped open the box and emptied its contents into the pot, then emptied in a water bottle and started stirring with a spoon.

She momentarily glanced at Sawyer, who was looking off in the distance in wonder of the rest of Jess's story and capabilities.

She remembered something vital.

"Right," she started and he gave her his attention as he sat cross-legged in front of the minimally warming fire. "So, I forgot to ask you that question," she said. He waited expectantly for it. She removed the spoon and placed in a plate next to her, then turned to him with an unreadable expression.

"…

Is your name really Charon?"

XXXXX


	8. 8: Identity

Sawyer inhaled. "Yes," he blankly replied, leaning forward and grabbing the spoon she'd discarded to stir the soup again as a way of dismissal.

…She didn't buy it.

"Are you sure?" she asked suspiciously. Sawyer locked his gaze with hers. As if taking the hint, she retreated. "Forget it. You don't have to answer. I just…" she held his gaze intensely. "You're no one's property…You shouldn't have a code-name. You should have…your **own** name!" she exclaimed in anger not directed at **him**. She quieted again, and broke eye-contacted, biting her lip in an attempt to remain calm.

…

Sawyer inhaled again. "…It's Sawyer…"

Jess turned to him wide-eyed, surprised that he'd actually answered. He wasn't looking at her, eyes fixed on the pot and his stirring.

"It…**was**…"

"…It still is," Jess told. Sawyer locked eyes with hers as he said:

"No. It is not…"

"Yes, it is," she insisted. Sawyer discarded the spoon, and turned to her sharply.

"Look, Jessica," he interrupted as if in sudden mock. Then, he quieted, breaking eye-contact as he scoffed. Jess cocked an eyebrow. He grew silent. She expectantly waited. His eyes darted back and forth in search of words. Found, he continued. "You need to **stop**…" he paused again. She asked the question his own brain was asking.

"…Stop what? Treating you like a person?" she rhetorically inquired. Sawyer turned to her again.

"Yes," he plainly replied.

"**Yes**?" she retorted in shock. She waited for him to take it back.

He didn't.

She scoffed too, looking off in disbelief, then turning to him once more. "W-What? **Why**?" she perplexedly questioned.

"Because sooner or later, you'll be **dead**! and I…" He grew silent once more. Jess grew grim. Her stomach clenched. He knew he'd offended, even scared, her. He scoured for words again. "I don't wanna get used to…**this**…"

…

Jess's eyes softened on him.

A heavy moment of silence passed, him in self-debate, she in deep thought.

She spoke.

"Well, **Sawyer**," she started. He glared at her intent using of his name despite his request. "You better make damn sure I don't **die**, because as long as you're with me, I'm gonna continue acting like your thoughts, wants, and needs **matter**, because they fucking **do**," she firmly said.

…

Sawyer eyed her in disbelief.

She looked away. "Now. Do you have a plate?" she asked as she rummaged her bag for her own bowl. He furrowed his eyebrows in utter confusion at the sudden flip of topic. She gazed at him expectantly. "Plate?" she repeated, glancing at the pot. Getting it, Sawyer nodded.

"Yes."

"Good." She reached to grab the spoon, then, touching its heated metal, winced and pulled her hand back. Sawyer suppressed an amused smirk, and went to grab it instead. Jess reddened in embarrassment. She cleared her throat, and put her bowl in his outstretched hand. She thanked him as he handed it back to her, filled, and he filled up his own.

Though sour and crappy, Sawyer was used to the Wastelands food; basically, whatever it had to offer, good or bad, he was used to. Jess was still adjusting…

They ate in silence, their thoughts varying from the day's events, to tomorrow's, but, almost tiredly, neither spoke.

You could say: enough was said.

There was change in the air between them.

It…warmed…

Though still hesitant, Sawyer was content with her persistence as much as she was content with his silent approval.

How could he say no?

An idiot would say no to the offer she made.

An idiot.

When they'd finished, Jess gathered their dishes and washed them.

Only the fire remained in that sole pot.

Then came a curious part of the day that they had best solve if they were to spend more time in each other's company.

Exiting the bathroom, Jess stood with her hands on her hips, thinking, as Sawyer organized the contents of his bag.

She was staring at the doubled bed. Well, she wouldn't really call it a bed. More like a…a rusty, barely-holding surface with a worn out, sorta fluffy but pretty useless piece of cloth on top.

Meh. It was the best the Wastes had to offer.

But that wasn't the problem. The problem was that there was **two** of them; Jess…and Sawyer.

Yes, she knows it's a **double** bed!...Is that really a solution?

The **awkwardness**!

_'__Get over yourself,'_ her mind scolded tiredly.

Rising with his bag back on his shoulders, Sawyer suspiciously observed her tense posture, approaching her, well, approaching the door.

She locks onto his gaze as she spoke somewhat in haste. "So, I guess we could share the bed, but you gotta promise; no funny business," she smirked to keep it as minimally awkward as possible. Sawyer slightly held his own smirk at that, quickly shaking of thoughts of said 'funny business'.

She said it; not him.

"No need. I'll reside on the couch downstairs. Be best to keep an eye out anyways," he gave an excuse. Jess's smirk widened.

"No need. Come. Look what I set up," she beckoned as she turned on her heel and started towards the stairs. Sawyer curiously followed. "I couldn't help the ideas, really. I've always been kinda creative. Eventually, I came up with this," she explained to fill the silence, stopping and pointing at the plastic bowl.

Sawyer stepped forward, observing its contents, and tracing the rope to the clip on the door. Quite easily, he gets what it is, and smirks in impressment.

It certainly beat sleeping with one eye open.

"You can't possibly think you'll fit into that," she says. Sawyer turns to see her studying the old, worn out couch. He went to stand beside her. He didn't see the problem. At least the couch was better than the floor he saw way too much of. "I mean, you're…huge," she paused suddenly as her eyes found and froze at his torso. Sawyer cocked an eyebrow.

Well, attraction certainly wasn't a problem either of them had acknowledged until then.

That was dangerous…

Realizing she'd been noticeably staring, Jess laughed out. She knows he saw it, so the only way out was through humor.

Unable to find an explanation, she muttered an apology "Sorry…That was inappropriate," and continued to laugh awkwardly. Sawyer shook his head in amusement. It was not wise to ponder such thoughts for too long…alone…with no barriers.

Sawyer reverted the topic back. "I'm used to sleeping on the floor. This is a good step-up," he states. Her laughter faded when he'd started speaking, and she listened, furrowing her eyebrows in reluctant refusal.

"But-"

"You should go upstairs. Get some rest," he suggested. It sounded more like an order, though. Her mind, already hesitant about sleeping next to a stranger, hastily agreed to that, and forced her to go against putting up a fight.

"…Are you sure?" she still tried out of courtesy. He gave her an assuring nod, pulling his bag off his shoulder and placing it beside the couch.

No, he wasn't sure that sleeping on the small, uncomfortable couch was better than the large, flat bed, but he was damn sure it was a shit idea to sleep next to **her**.

Why? Because, as he'd said before, why the heck would you wanna start something with someone who could potentially die at any minute? Besides. He wasn't good at romance and shit, and he didn't think she was the kind to lend a one-night stand, neither did he think she should. He'd rather keep his respect for her so far.

"…Okay…I'll be upstairs if you need anything…" she finished, turning to the stairs.

With a hand on the rail, she glanced at him once more. He was brushing the blanket of dust off the couch. She felt a pang of guilt before her rational mind dismissed it and insisted that this was best.

She climbed.

XXXXX


	9. 9: On The Way

Six hours later, Jess awoke with a start.

The nightmares.

They were non-stop since she'd left the vault.

Some vague. Some diamond sharp.

She brushed a hand through her hair and slid off the bed. She pulled her thin blanket along and started neatly folding it as she eyed out the window for the day-time.

Her Pip-boy was not built to survive the Wastelands' harsh environments. A nice fall rendered it a broken memory in another rusty drawer within her Megaton apartment.

It seemed it was just the break of dawn.

She inhaled from tension that seemed to never seize.

It was as good a time as any to leave, she supposed.

Jess strolled to her bag with a yawn. She shoved in the blanket, and rummaged for her toothbrush. Found, she made her way to the bathroom.

Hearing the door shut, Sawyer was content she'd awoken on her own account. To him, this was the safest, as safe as it could get, time of the day to travel.

About fifteen minutes later, he could hear her footsteps creak on the stairs. Jess descended while covering a yawn with the back of her hand. Upon seeing him, she stopped with the other hand on the rail. She furrowed her eyebrows, slightly surprised he was already up.

"Morning," she called. He gave her a small nod as he tweaked away at his shotgun, one leg on the other as he was seated on the couch. He was in a worn-out black tank that she gave no notice to as she was too distracting by the topic. "Did you get any sleep?" she asked in concern, feeling guilt poke at her with the assumption that he couldn't cause she wouldn't let him sleep on the bed, even though it was **his** refusal.

"Yes," Sawyer replied, turning back to his shotgun. "You ready to leave?" he asked, quite content he had permission to freely speak now. Quite content.

"Yeah. Just let me get my stuff," she said. He gave a nod as he rose.

Huge.

He was seriously huge.

Ripping her gaze away, Jess was in the process of ascending the stairs

then she stopped.

Jess's eyes snapped back…to his back.

There beneath that dark, worn-out piece of cloth, they clawed out. Some wide. Some thin. All a faded pink.

The **scars**.

…

She grimaced.

Her stomach clenched.

Her shock and processing were interrupted when he pulled a half-sleeved, grey shirt over his head. Her conscience walked in, and scolded her prying eyes. Shamefully, she looked away, and took a hastened ascend.

But her thoughts remained fixed, down the stairs, orbiting his assumed past.

As she, with little awareness, strolled back into the room and gathered her equipment, the cogs in her mind clicked and turned.

And as the two coursed through the many mind-marked routes of the Wastes, silence was their companion. Inner-silence however, was far from present, for their minds spoke, and they spoke aloud, not to one another, but to themselves.

Jess's thoughts were dangerously occupied by what she'd seen. She wondered if it was due to the…brainwash…or if it had occurred on a separate, entirely different, but almost equally as gruesome, occasion. She was so distracted, her cradling of her weapon was almost pointless, considering she paid no mind whatsoever to her surroundings.

Luckily for her, the core of her distraction had his thoughts entirely fixated on the roads and whatever dangers may be lurking about.

The Wastelands, were indeed, a waste. Everything was wasted. The ground, though the weather was a permanent cool, was dried up. Whatever bodies of water they passed by were a dull, questionable green. The trees, or what was left of them, were all unexceptionally grey and dead. The sky reflected the waters. No clouds, no sun, no moon nor stars were clearly visible, just the occasional dimming and brightening of light that signaled the time of the day. The buildings were as if barely standing ruins.

Just like the people.

After almost an hour of slow and cautious movement, Sawyer suddenly noted the extreme exhaustion showing on Jess's poor posture. He could see, her thumps were tiredly fixed between her bag's straps and her shoulders, which were sure to be red-sore, as sore as her hunched-over back was as she walked.

Sawyer inhaled, irritated by how weak she seemed. She was gonna make it ten-times more difficult for him to keep her alive…for both their sakes.

"We should stop for a few minutes," he said, coming to a halt and up with an idea. As if just then realizing he'd said something, Jess took it in as he eyed her intently, then nodded,

"Yeah. Okay," and hastily shoved her bag off and onto the ground with a thud, then collapsed on a rock with elbows on knees and her rifle cradled in her lap.

Sawyer shrugged off his bag with less of a reason to collapse.

He was used to the walking, and the running, and the **hours**.

She wasn't.

And the extra weight she was hauling around wasn't helping.

"You should give me some of your equipment to carry in my bag," he said. Jess's mind seemed to be running as slow as her body, because it took her another minute to hear that too. She meekly raised her head up to meet his gaze, momentarily wondering why he seemed unfazed by the long trip. Then she frowned.

"What? No. You're carrying your own stuff," she dismissed, tiredly shaking her head.

"I am carrying far less than you are," he stated. She sighed, actually considering it. With her mind insisting that it was selfish to let him carry her stuff for her own relief, she sighed.

"No, Sawyer."

…Hearing his name…his real name…uttered so casually…He couldn't determine how that made him feel just yet…

However, deep inside, there was this very small spark of hope. A spark he knew could easily be snuffed out should the woman opposite him stumble and die of weakness.

"It would make keeping you alive a lot easier if you were able to run when needed," he insisted. Jess looked up at him. A small pang of panic hit him with the possibility of displeasing his employer. Jess carefully studied his expression. She'd caught the flash of sarcasm that rushed past his eyes when he'd started talking, but was quickly coated by placidness as he instead held her gaze expectantly.

Actually considering what he'd suggested, though her mind was too tired to process the fear that came with the idea of dying any minute, she, with less of a fight, gave into his words and the small ease they offered.

She nodded with a slight smirk. "Okay, tough guy," she said as she pulled her bag to her feet and opened it, bringing out a number of things that included the fire-pot and the alarm-scrap. Sawyer neared her and knelt down, taking the objects and, even though she was instructing how to, he was already neatly placing them inside. Organizing was everything when it came to the bags and what little space they had to offer.

"Stand and put your hands in the air!" a voice cut in.

Jess and Sawyer froze. Their eyes simultaneously locked. As if the calm before the storm, their hearts slowed, then beat like motors, and their minds blanked, then rushed like ants.

Sawyer sees fear rise in Jess's eyes like a rushing wave. He wanted to tell her not to panic, but didn't speak to avoid provoking their attackers.

Slowly, warily, they rose.

There were two of them, both men, both quite disheveled, but, then again, so was everyone. One had a pistol, and the other a rifle.

"Weapons down," the blonde one demanded. Jess uncertainly glanced at Sawyer as if in plea. He did not return her gaze as he reached for Chuck.

Jess's eyes widen. Surely he wasn't giving up that easily…Surely.

"Now, bitch!" the man yelled at Jess, who was yet to move.

"Okay!" she told, following Sawyer's movement as she pulled her rifle off her shoulder.

She began to further panic. If she couldn't rely on him or his experience, she needed to get back to relying on herself. Her mind raced madly in search for solutions. Anything!

Though it was always best to rely on one's self, she wasn't entirely wrong to place her trust in Sawyer.

The two raiders seemed more wary of him than her,

and they had reason to be.

For the minute Chuck was in his hands, Sawyer, speedily, and skillfully,

shot them both down,

before the second could react

to the fall of the first…

…

…

Jess's mouth fell agape. The rifle was still hanging in her hand in removal motion. As slowly as her hands declined with it, as slowly as she turned to Sawyer…in utter shock…and disbelief.

He just stood there…observing his handy work

indifferently…

Without making eye-contact, he said: "Let's go."

He went for his now fuller bag, and, almost absently, Jess followed suit. Though barely evident, his tension had increased. He was angry he'd let his guard down…

…Or was he angry with the ease that came naturally with the act of killing?...

Jess saw it differently though, **took** it differently…She felt…somehow…**safer**…with him…than she'd ever had for days…

XXXXX


	10. 10: Megaton

The rest of the hike back to Megaton was, besides the occasional stops for a drink or a five-minute break, as silent as it had started.

There at last.

Megaton.

A fortified city which was constructed within an undetonated atomic bomb crater. It was built up using the remains of airplanes from a no longer-existent airport nearby.

Everyone inside had a job to do. When Jess had first arrived, she was stopped by a Protectron robot called Deputy Weld. Weld put her on standby as he wirelessly buzzed Jericho, the town's body-guard, to determine whether or not she was allowed to enter, since only Weld, or the hidden inner and outer manual controls, could open the gate.

After deeming her safe, and letting her in, she was to wait by Jericho's side for the sheriff's, Lucas's, arrival to give her a word of warning, and insure that she knew what her acting out or posing any kind of threat would mean.

It took a while, but when she'd figured it out, Lucas snuck her near the atomic bomb that loomed in the heart of the city at night, away from the prying shields of the ignorant Children of Atom who worshipped the damn thing, and she was successfully, with little difficulty, able to disarm it, insuring Megaton's stability, and well-on earning herself an entire, two-story apartment.

Of course, had he not discovered she was from a vault, he never would have let her within ten feet of the bomb.

This had happened about a week into her initial arrival at the city.

Looks like her extreme interest in terminals was ultimately beneficial, and she had Stanley to thank for that.

Honestly, though it was her father's main occupation, she was never very interested in biology and chemistry.

Physics and Mechanics were her play things.

Jess and Sawyer approach the town, and almost immediately pick up on the air of ease that radiated from its metal walls, specifically if you were an ally to the place.

Though unnecessary, Jess shortly greets Deputy Weld on their way in.

The gate was left open from ten am to six pm. Currently though, it was like seven or eight in the morning, so Weld was to open it for them,

but he refused.

_"__Unauthorized person detected. Please standby,"_ he said in a n echo-y, robot-like voice with the occasional pauses and all. Jess balanced herself on her other foot and pushed her thumps between her bag-straps and her shoulders as she spoke.

"Is that really necessary, Weld? He's with me," she states. Sawyer takes no offense for not being let in. a cold reception was always around the corner for him.

_"__Please standby,"_ Weld nonchalantly repeated. Jess exhaled irritably.

About three minutes later, the old turbine engine from some plane that acted as the center-jewel of Megaton's built, as well as the gate's opener, turned on, loud and speedy, and the gate made from two plane wings slowly and far from smoothly parted. From behind, appeared Jericho.

Jericho was an ex-raider who decided to, after many years of raiding, settle down in Megaton and try and do some change. Being a hell of a shot with his Chines Assault Rifle, he found no better job than to help defend the city. At least he gets to shoot something.

He approached them with rifle in hand. His eyes noticed Sawyer first, and narrowed suspiciously as his hold on his weapon tightened. Then he turned to Jess…and smirked. "Well, well, well. Came in single, went out to mingle," he said. Jess's eyes narrowed at his words irritably, but she was mostly unfazed. Sawyer, after observing and assessing Jericho, paid him no mind.

"_'__Hey, Jess. Glad you're still alive. How'd it go?'_" she imitates a better version of Jericho that didn't exist. Jericho chuckles at it. Sawyer doesn't react.

"Fair enough. Seriously though. Who's the big log?" Jericho pushes. Jess brushes off his rudeness. Sawyer is unfazed by the comment. He'd been called worse things.

"This is Sawyer. Met him on the way. He…helped me get her safely," she explains, dazing off a bit as she gave notice to the past hour's flashback. Jericho carefully studies Sawyer, who was looking around absently, patient for Jess to move.

Having originally planned to discuss Sawyer and his condition with her friends, and Jericho, Jess decided it would be best to hold it off till she could leave Sawyer at Moriarty's, or the house, not wanting to upset him by the truths she might have to speak.

"So, like, a mercenary for hire," Jericho curiously says.

"Something like that," she nods hesitantly, firmly refusing to speak of it in front of Sawyer. Jericho turns to him once more. This time, Sawyer looks back. Jericho holds his gaze, almost challengingly. Jess eyes them curiously, then warily, as almost half a minute passed with this staring contest, till Jericho finally spoke after a considerate nod.

"Well," he turned to walk, "We ain't gonna sit here all day. Get your asses inside," he went in. Jess and Sawyer shared a quick, suspicious glance before following after him.

_"__Happy trails, partner,"_ Weld waved as they entered, and they momentarily looked to see the owner of the voice.

The gate creaked and closed in behind them.

XXX

Not five feet in when the sheriff himself approached them, looking like he'd just woken up. Come to think of it, so did Jericho, but his interest in the situation easily covered it.

"Jess. Welcome back. Glad to see you're still beating," he smiled softly at her, resting his hands on his hips. Jess turned to Jericho and smirked.

"See," she told. He shrugged. Sawyer momentarily wondered about the nature of their relationship before deeming it none of his business. Lucas dismisses whatever she meant by her word to Jericho and, noticing Sawyer, tenses, and asks:

"Who's your friend?" About to answer, Jericho beat her to it.

"He's her new bodyguard," he smirked. Lucas turned to Jericho with interest, then to Jess once more.

"A bodyguard?" he asked as if in surprise, though it was mainly for confirmation. Everyone knew not to take Jericho's words to heart. They were mostly sarcastic. Jess hesitates, glancing momentarily at Sawyer, who, feeling her gaze, locked eye-contact. Noticing he was barely listening, though he deeply was but didn't show, Jess nodded at Lucas.

"Yeah," she shortly gave. Considering this, Lucas nodded as if in approval.

"Well, I'm glad to hear you've got someone watching your back out there," he tells sincerely. Then his expression changes to one of seriousness. "But," he started, taking an emphasizing step towards Sawyer, who held his gaze in return.

She should have known; hostility was the first reaction anyone one would give to Sawyer.

It bothered her.

"To be perfectly clear…There is no room here for games…One wrong move…and you're out. Got that, son?" Lucas pushed almost threateningly. Jess tensed. Jericho readied his weapon.

Sawyer remained silent.

Lucas cocked an eyebrow. "Do you **understand**?" he repeated more firmly. Sawyer inhaled tiredly and turned to Jess, who was perplexedly wondering why he refused to speak. He eyed her expectantly, and she remained confused.

"Sawyer," she called, as if to rewire his attention. Satisfied with the permission granted, Sawyer turned to Lucas once more, who was as confused as both Jericho and Jess.

"Yes," he simply gave, looking off once more.

The confusion stretched for about another half a minute before Lucas nodded, though still suspicious.

"Jess. A moment, please," he said. Jess, feeling as though she was caught in trouble, nodded and followed as Lucas guided her a few feet away. He gave a knowing glance to Jericho before he walked. Jericho nodded in assurance, and rooted firmly against Sawyer like a wall. Ironic though, cause Sawyer was much larger in size compared.

"I don't like the look on that man's face, Jess. What's his deal?" Lucas calmly demanded. Jess nodded knowingly.

"I know. He's just…He's brainwashed, okay?" she gave tiredly. Lucas's eyes went wide. "I tried to free him. I couldn't. Just…He wouldn't do anything without my permission…so don't worry about him," she told almost in disappointment.

Lucas gave her words a minute's thought, before nodding once more. What she'd said had assured him, but did not please him. "I hope you know what you are doing, Jessica," he advised.

_'__I don't,'_ she wanted to say,

but nodded instead.

XXX

"Hey, Hulk-brain," Jericho called Sawyer, who was standing literally a foot away from him, eyes in the distance absently…though he was listening.

Jess and Lucas were talking a few feet away.

"What's your problem, eh?" Sawyer does not answer him. Jericho slightly neared him then, and lowered his tone. "You got the hots for Jess, is that it, huh? You want a piece of that sweet ass?"

With the speed of an aiming tank, Sawyer turned to him

menacingly.

…

…Jericho smiled.

"Oh, ho ho. Looks like I hit a nerve…" he uttered happily, as if **wanting** Sawyer to react.

But Sawyer wasn't stupid. Lucas **just** warned him not to make any moves, and if he did…if he indulged his irritation in that moment…he'd be kicked out of the city, and how was he to protect his employer then?

Fortunately, Jess and Lucas were through, and Jess approached the two, as Lucas waved at Jericho to approach him. Nodding Jericho went, but not before giving Sawyer one last snake-smirk.

Jess, who could see the evident glare on Sawyer's face, and the smirk on Jericho's, furrowed her eyebrows warily.

She blocked Sawyer's vision. "Hey," she called. It took him a second to rip his gaze from Jericho, and lock it with hers.

Anger was one of the hardest things he had to learn to control, the hard way…

You'd think it would get easier with time. It did…but he'd find that he would always slip, and he wondered why, of all emotions, that was his heavy rock.

"You okay?" Jess asked in concern, snapping him out of it. He gave her a simple nod, ignoring the slight pinch in his heart at her foreign concern.

Her tension faded in the slight, and she gestured to the side with her head. "Come on. Let's go."

XXXXX


	11. 11: My People

Jess leads Sawyer up one of the many rickety, rusty, metal platforms, towards her small, Megaton house.

The entire interior of the city was as such, platforms leading up and down the steel-made buildings that seemed ancient and barely holding together.

She unlocks the door's lock, and leads in.

The house was narrow, in and out, but long: two floors. On the first, there was the living room, which contained a stained, worn-out couch and a coffee table, as well as locker by the wall beside the front door. Across, the kitchen openly connected to the living room in a small corner, as if it was forced in. Beside that, nearer to the couch, was a door that lead to an even narrower bathroom which, fortunately, and though cold, had water running. Upstairs there were two rooms, one only slightly bigger than the other, but unfortunately the bed was in the later, so the bigger room was just empty save a large shelf and a lone arm-chair.

Still, very few people were fortunate to have their own place. Sawyer wondered then: how?

He recalled her confession to being a fresh vaultie, and though he hadn't gotten more information than that, being fresh from a vault far from meant that you'd be liked by the public let alone given your own place.

So how?

"Okay, so," started Jess, cutting off Sawyer's train of thoughts as she shrugged off her bag and rifle and placed them on the ground near the stairs. "Bathroom's that way, and kitchen's over there," she said, then paused and frowned. Jess waited for a resumption. She did not make eye-contact as she said: "There's only one bed, upstairs." He gave a look of dismiss at that. She locked onto his gaze. "But I can see Moira about getting a second bed, or a mattress, that is if my friends…can't uhh," she grows silent. Sawyer's eyebrow slightly raises. "Let's just…see what happens," she nods in dismiss. Sawyer's expression remains plain. She continues to nod, as if waiting for him to say something, and when she realized he wasn't planning on it, she moved on. "Okay. I'll be upstairs. Help yourself around," she gestured, then, seeing her stuff, tiredly picked it up and ascended the stairs.

Entering her room and closing the door behind her, Jess rested her objects near the door, and, seeing the bed, strolled towards it as if in trance. At least this one had a clean, though also worn-out, sheet and pillow. She flopped onto it and unintentionally moaned in pain at the sudden comfort that straightened her aching back.

About ten-minutes later, when she felt exhaustion was invading her senses, she forced herself up right, then rose completely and made for her bag.

There was a narrow, sole locker beside her bed-end, and after, a corner-desk.

She opened the locker, and from the small stack beneath, pulled out a clean shirt and her other, out of three, pair of pants. She quickly changed and discarder her dirty wear on the floor under the bed she'd previously checked for rats and cleaned from dust. There was another outfit outside she'd been letting dry on the floor rail after washing it in the bathroom sink.

There was only so much she'd managed to take from her room in the Vault before being forced to run. Some clothes. Two of her favorite books. A picture of her and her dad…A picture of her mom. And the grey, super-handy backpack she owned.

She hauled her bag onto the desk and started emptying it. For about half an hour as Sawyer washed up and rested his legs, Jess was categorizing what they'd found. Things to be sold, things to be stored, and things that would go back in the bag. She recalled that some of her things were with Sawyer and, belonging to the final category, paid them no mind. Picking up a medium sized-satchel, she packed the stuff to sell, and made her way out of her room.

Looking down the rail momentarily, she caught sight of Sawyer seated on the couch below. She then made her way to the stairs, and spoke: "I'm heading out to sell some stuff, and talk to my friends," she started. Coming to a stop across him, she continued. "When you feel like heading out, you'll probably find me at Moriarty's bar. It's pretty easy to find." Sawyer gave her a nod.

Seeing the bathroom, she momentarily discarded the bag, made use of the room, and headed out again, muttering a quick 'bye' to Sawyer before disappearing outside.

XXX

Irritably discovering that Moira's was still closed, Jess, spotting her friends by their own shops, Lucy sold clothes and Billy sold weaponry, she had to haul around the bag as she became too caught up in her main goal.

"Oh, come on princess, you know you want me," Billy smirked at Lucy, who had her arms crossed and was cocking an eyebrow at him.

"You're right, Bill. I do want you," she smirked back coyly. Billy's eyes widened. After all the refusal, verbal and physical, that was the last thing he was expecting to hear. "I want you…" she neared him, "to stop harassing me," she told sternly suddenly, expression falling once more as she took that step back. Billy, realizing she was playing him, regained his smirk and smug expression.

"It's not harassment if you like me back," he stated as if knowingly. It was obvious to him, just not enough, cause he couldn't figure out the reason behind her rejection, besides the fact that he was a flirt and could barely ever be serious. She did like him; she just wasn't ready to admit it, hadn't yet fully accepted his lower-set traits.

Jess approached the two with an almost relieved smile. Spending so many days in the Waste…it was nice to see some friendly faces.

Billy's eyes flashed to hers. Immediately, he smiled brightly. "Well, look who made it back in one piece!" he said enthusiastically. Lucy furrowed her eyebrows and turned to follow his gaze. Her expression lightened brightly upon seeing Jess as well.

"Jess!" she exclaimed, rushing over and engulfing the brunette in a welcoming hug.

"Hey, guys," she smiled back happily.

"So, first time in the Wastes; how'd it go?" Billy inquired encouragingly.

"Did you find your father?" Lucy added. Jess hesitated for a moment. They furrowed their eyebrows in concern, then she gave in.

"No," she reluctantly let out. It's not that she didn't want them to know. It's that she didn't want to hear it herself again, and again.

Speaking of problems.

"I actually need to ask you guys about something. Why don't we head over to Moriarty's?" she suggested.

XXX

After telling her friends the whole story, Jess was, yet again, disappointed by their lack of knowledge on her complex situation. Frustrated enough, she'd allowed the interference of Gob, Nova, Doc Church who had entered then, even Moriarty himself, who was only good for his sarcasm and relentless mockery.

Eventually though, they all said the same thing: Rivet City was their best hope. Doc Church confirmed it, so did Lucy and Billy.

It's a good thing her dad was supposedly there too. One more road trip should hopefully end all of her problems, except the one where she now lives in the Wastes.

XXX

Having freshened up, Sawyer made his way out of the house, Sawyer eyed around for Moriarty's. It wasn't hard to find, considering the broad, wooden sign.

Wherever he walked, eyes followed.

He couldn't care less.

However, it was as if daring to the universe. If the crowd wouldn't bug him, this surely would.

Only a few feet from the door, Jericho, of all of Megaton's settlers, was arriving from the opposite direction, and upon seeing Sawyer, of course, he approached him.

"Hey! If it isn't robo-brain!" he said. Sawyer rolled his eyes. Honestly, he was in no mood for this idiot again. What was his problem anyways?

Well, really really, he was a little threatened by Sawyer, but after hearing what the sheriff had informed him of, Sawyer had become his target entertainment.

Sawyer attempted to ignore and move past him, but Jericho blocked his path. "What's the hurry? Going to do your mistress's biddings?" Jericho cocked an amused eyebrow. Sawyer exhaled tiredly.

Yes. Yes he was.

Jericho's face fell at the silence irritably. "What? Cat ate your tongue? Or can't you talk without your mistress's permission?"

"Yes, actually. So you go talk to her," Sawyer gave, heading to move and getting stopped yet again.

His patience was wearing thin.

"So it **does** speak! Why don't you just drop the act. We all know why you're really following her around," Jericho lowly says. Sawyer does not retort; instead, he calmed himself, and stood still. This would be a long one.

XXXXX


	12. 12: For You

"The hell's goin' on out there?" Billy irritably asked.

Jess panicked.

From the four-chaired table they all sat on or stood by, Jess stood, and Billy, Lucy, and the doc, along with some of the saloon's remaining customers, followed, while Moriarty shushed Gob and Nova and yelled them back to work.

Jess exited the bar, and there, outside and near the railing, was Jericho's back to them, and there, on the floor, was Sawyer, hoisted up on one elbow.

Jess's eyes widened.

Just as Jericho was about to bring another fist down, Jess, followed hastily along with her friends as Church stood aside and an audience watched. Billy zoomed in hurriedly past Jess, taking hold of Jericho's arm as Jess came to block his path, shoving him harshly in the chest.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" she demanded furiously.

She looked down at Sawyer as Jericho shrugged off Billy's hand. She tried to lend him a hand as he seemingly effortlessly rose back to his feet and refused it.

His forehead was bleeding from the side, his jaw was bruised, his lip was cut!

And Jericho looked untouched.

"What exactly is your problem? Did the radiation finally get to you?" Lucy shot at him.

"Shut up, cunt!" he retorted.

"Don't you fucking talk to her like that!" Billy threatened. Jericho turned to him.

"Or what, pretty boy?"

"Jericho," Jess called. He faced her. "What the hell are you doing?" she asked harshly.

"The idiot won't fight back," he stated in amusement.

Respectively, Jess turned to Sawyer, who was eyeing her plainly. Her eyes darted back and forth between his questionably and in confusion.

"I'm sure he will, after a few more fists up his ass," Jericho chuckled, bringing his fists up again as he started to move. Before Billy, Lucy, and others had to hold him back, Jess spun and threw a nice, heavy punch right onto his nose, satisfied with the sound of a breaking bone.

…

The crowd eyed wide.

Jericho threw his head back and held his profusely bleeding nose. His wild eyes turned to meet Jess's tense ones. "You fucking bitch! I'm gonna kill you!"

As he shoved his restrainers aside and approached her, he was quickly shoved up and back into the saloon's wall, by Sawyer himself.

The crowd gasped as the mountain held Jericho off his feet by the throat.

From all the commotion, Moriarty finally came out, and was taken aback by the sight approximately beside him.

Anxiously, Jess stormed forward and put a hand on Sawyer's flexed bicep firmly, yanking down, though it he wouldn't budge. "Sawyer, put him down!" she demanded in haste. He did not make eye-contact, but immediately complied and rooted beside her.

Jericho collapsed to the ground and clutched his throat, couching vigorously with a blued face. He looked up at them in fear, and they looked down on him

in utter

disgust.

Wordlessly, Jess guided Sawyer away.

XXX

"Sit down," Jess instructed after exiting the bathroom with a medic kit.

"This isn't neces-"

"Sit. Down," she ordered with clear anger. Sawyer, though reluctant, wordlessly complied. He inhaled and she sighed tiredly as she flopped down onto the couch beside him, bending down to open the kit on the floor.

Realizing she'd forgotten the alcohol, she hauled herself back up and retrieved a whiskey bottle from the corner-kitchen, then re-sat.

He was looking onward, and she needed him to face her so she could work. She was in no mood to ask nicely, so she simply reached out to lightly grab his chin, but he instantly pulled back, eyeing her in angered-shock. She observed him perplexedly. Realizing he'd overly acted due to instincts, he calmed and, hesitantly still, stilled. Noting so, she, more carefully this time, re-approached him.

She reached for his head, and though he looked like he would've pulled away again, he didn't. Satisfied with so, she finally, gently still, brought down the alcohol-wetted cloth onto his open wound. Warily, her eyes darted to his face but…nothing…not a single wince.

Surly, it hurt, but he didn't give off any sign of such.

How used was he to the pain?

…To pain…

Jess shook off the question and focused on her work. His gaze was far, elsewhere, and she momentarily wondered exactly where.

Where was he?

His state saddened her, and respectively angered her, though her fire had somewhat died down.

She had to ask.

"Why did you let him hit you?"

It took Sawyer a moment to answer, as if he did not wish to discuss it. "If I would've fought back, I would've been forced to leave the city and you, which, in the lack of my presence, could compromise your safety," he formally informed. Jess's face fell at the last statement. A mixture of pity, guilt, and shock swirled within her eyes, he could see, just before he looked away once more.

Jess's gaze fell.

What could she say to that?

'Don't do it again,'? If he wouldn't have, they would've, had she not been able to convince them, thrown him out, and then what? How would she feel when he was out there in the hell that was the Wastes, and she was inside a nice and cozy house? Would she have followed him, out there, in the hell that was the Wastes…

She remained silent.

Instead, she continued to work at his wounds, and he was minimally satisfied with her acceptance.

At least, though he thought it was extremely stupid of her, she punched the guy for him.

…When was the last time someone stood up for him?

Jess's thoughts bitterly consumed this ever reoccurring problem: what is she to do with him? How can this end?

She found something, right?

She spoke.

"…My…friends…They told me that…Rivet city had good high-tech. That someone there might help," she said. He made eye-contact when she'd started speaking, but said nothing to that. In fact, he looked quite indifferent to what she'd said. At his silence, she pursed her lips. She moved to his own cut lip as she continued to speak. "I know it's a long shot, but we have to try," she told encouragingly, wiping at the blood there too. He was as still as a statue, but as tense as a spring on the inside, not because of what she was saying, but because of where she was touching.

He was grateful when she removed her hand and rose alas with the kit and equipment in hand. Putting the kit between her arm, she put the bottle on the sink, and opened the fridge with her towel-wielding hand. She brought out a cooled water-bottle, and approached him, handing it over. He took it as she explained. "For the bruise."

After cleaning the towel and leaving it to dry on the stairs' railing, she re-grabbed her bag from beside the door, and held the door-knob. "I'm gonna go see Moira about that mattress. I won't have you sleeping on a couch again," she told, then opened the door, and left.

Sawyer exhaled tiredly at her words.

He wondered when she'd get bored of this nice-act, if she ever would.

The last thing he needed was pity breathing constantly down his neck, and no, all the good she was doing him in the process wasn't helping…

…yet…

XXXXX


	13. 13: Questions

About half an hour from Jess's departure, she returns with two other men carrying a new bed-nothing was ever really new around here-up the stairs to the second bedroom. When they were done, and she tipped them as Sawyer watched the whole time, she beckoned him to follow.

Jess hasn't explained why she wants him, nor where she was taking him.

When they enter Craterside supply, they are greeted by a bubbly, grinning red-head, Moira.

Upon their entrance, her eyes widen at the side of Sawyer, and her lips form a silent gasp.

"Wow," she utters. Slowly, yet, somewhat hastily, she approaches the pair, all the while gawking at Sawyer, who was made uncomfortable by the confusing situation.

What was Jess doing?

"You didn't tell me he was so…large," Moira states.

"Moira," Jess warns. Moira turns to her.

"Right sorry," she shakes her head. Jess finally turns to Sawyer and explains.

"This is one of my friends, Moira. She might be able to help us, and don't you dare roll your eyes at me," Jess points an accusing finger at him. He spares a short smirk, for he was fighting that urge indeed. Seeing him do so, she smiles too, then turns to Moira once more as Sawyer looked elsewhere. She nods at Moira.

"So. What's your name?" Moira starts off somewhat awkwardly.

She was generally awkward.

"Talk to Jess," he replies blankly, refusing eye-contact. Both girls furrow their eyebrows, as well as Moira's silent bodyguard in the background, Max.

Jess opens her mouth to inquire him, but Moira quickly raises a hand to silence her as she says: "Why? Can't speak without her permission? Without your **employer's** permission?" she asks. Sawyer then locks onto her gaze tiredly and nods. Jess's eyes go wide. "Amazing," Moira whispers to herself. Jess shoots her a glare she doesn't notice. Sawyer shakes his head and rolls his eyes.

It was one thing people fearing him, but people admiring him, well, more accurately, what he was,

…that…

…was disturbing…

"Tell him he can speak to me," Moira says to Jess. Jess for some reason resists. Sawyer patiently awaits her command. "He'll only listen to you," Moira insists. Jess inhales tiredly.

"Answer her questions, Sawyer," she tells softly, glancing at him. He gives a firm nod, though he could see she didn't want to be here as much as he.

His submissiveness both eased and bothered Jess, who then turned to Moira impatiently, and the red-head, who remained fascinated by his compliance, began her line of questioning. "So, I repeat: why did you think your name was Charon?" she says.

"I didn't **think**, it was what they called us," Sawyer replies with a tone of distaste.

"'Us?'" Jess asks in confusion. Sawyer spares her a glance.

"There were many of us."

"It was a project; more compliant soldiers I guess," Moira adds.

"Something like that," Sawyer breathes, looking away. Jess was very upset she was putting him through this, making him relive a past that was sure to be grim, but she kept telling herself she was trying to help him.

"How did they do it? I mean, yes, pain, physical, mental, emotional, but, is there something specific? Electrocution, back-lashing, solitary confinement?" Moira resumes. Jess grows all the more uncomfortable by the list. Sawyer continues to shake his head.

"No," then he stops, and considers, "…well, yes. A shock wave of some sort, spreads through our bodies, from here," he points to a spot on the back of his neck, below one side of his head. Both Moira and Jess haste to stand beside him to observe it. His hair was in a bun, so they could see his neck, and a thin, very faded scare.

Moira reaches to touch it, but Sawyer quickly grasps her wrist in threat. Jess grows wary. "Okay. Okay," Moira smiles in surrender, pulling her hand away calmly. Clearing her throat, she resumes. "I'm assuming you've tried to pull it out," she says. Sawyer nods. "You couldn't?"

"No. Whenever I tried, it would hurt like hell. I could never reach it, specifically with the intention of removing it…like…it knew what I was thinking," he explains, vision blurred by painful memories, and the ghost of pain whispering near him till he shock it off. Jess eyed him in pity, and anger. She was angry **for** him.

"Interesting," uttered Moira. Jess turned to her in hope. Sawyer knew there was none. Moira mumbled a bunch of scientific stuff mainly to herself, then said: "Well, at least we know where the source of the problem is. Of course, the area is highly risky to fumble with, and, really, I'm no doctor," she chuckles. No one understood what was funny. "Besides, even if I managed to figure out the right steps, I still don't have equipment sophisticated enough to handle the procedure. Oh! You should try Rivet City!" Jess rolls her eyes, and Sawyer is hoping she would give up already.

"Yeah. I know," she utters tiredly. "Thanks for the help Moira," she nods sincerely, heading towards Sawyer and the door.

"No problem, sweetie. Oh, and…if he's too much trouble for you," Jess turns to her with extreme impatience should she say what she thought she would, "you could just give him to m-"

"No," Jess cuts sharply, then quickly switches eye-contact to Sawyer, and says: "Let's go."

XXX

"Give you to her," Jess shakes her head in mock as she moved towards her house with Sawyer by her side. "That's the same thing Willow said," she states, mainly to herself weirdly. Sawyer takes this in indifferently. "She wanted you as her personal bodyguard, and Moira; don't even get me started on what she would make you do." Sawyer cocked an eyebrow at that curiously.

Jess then halted and blocked his path. She sighed. "Do you want another employer?" she asked out-of-the-blue. Sawyer takes a minute to process. He thinks he gets it.

"If you want to give up my contract to someone el-"

"No, this isn't about what I want…What do **you** want?" she pushes. Sawyer takes another minute, then a short step towards her that caused her to involuntarily tense.

"I want you…to stop trying to fix me," he starts. Her eyes slightly widen. "I want you to accept what I am, and get on with what you were planning on doing," he firmly states.

Jess quiets.

"…So, you **don't** want a new employer?" she then asks. It was not the reply Sawyer was expecting, granted he didn't know **what** to expect.

"…No," he replies. Jess takes this in and nods contently.

"Good," she last says before taking his side again and continuing down their path. Sawyer, though slightly confused, follows.

If only he knew how stubborn she was.

XXX

"There she is," said Billy from beside Lucy; both were by Jess's house.

"What are you guys doing here?" she retorted.

"We came to see how you were," Lucy said, gradually quieting with the presence with Sawyer.

"Yeah, we told Lucas about what happened. He said he'd 'see it was dealt with'. You know, much like how he deals with that bastard, Collin," Billy states in mock, then turns to Sawyer. "Sorry for the cold reception. It's not usually like this around here," he says, refusing to let how intimidated he was by Sawyer show.

"You can talk to them, Sawyer. They're friends," Jess states from the front, knowing he wouldn't answer lest she tell him he can, as she opened the door and walked in.

The duo furrows their eyebrows at this. "He-"

"Don't ask," Jess cuts Billy off.

"…Okaaay," he retorts, following her through along with the others.

Jess throws the keys on the table, and flops down on the couch. Lucy heads to sit beside her, and Billy stands close to the blonde's side of the couch, leaning against the wall as Sawyer mimicked his posture near the bathroom door.

"So, what are you gonna do…in general?" Lucy asks. Jess takes a minute, then sighs and leans forward on her knees.

"Well, tomorrow I'm heading out to Rivet city to find dad and-" Sawyer is confused by this. Dad? Either way, Jess is interrupted by Billy.

"Tomorrow? You just got here," Billy argues.

"Yeah, stay a couple days," Lucy supports. Jess shakes her head. Sawyer is remains occupied by his processing of her story.

"I've waited too long. I've been **sitting** for too long," she stresses.

"No, you've been preparing," Lucy insists.

"Whatever…Too much time has passed, I need to find him."

"A few days won't make a difference," Billy pushes.

"They might."

"Look, Jess…For all we know…He might already be…" Billy starts, and Lucy immediately shoots him a glare. Billy scowls at her. "I'm sorry, but it's true! Look, the man made his decision, she shouldn't have to risk her neck for it!" he declares. Lucy sighs. Jess considers this, and though Sawyer is not entirely aware of the full deal, he agrees with what Billy had said.

"You're right," Jess nods. Lucy widens her eyes at her in shock, Billy is also surprised. "This was his doing…but he didn't know I'd follow. He probably thought he was keeping me safe, leaving me in that hell-hole..." she utters, eyes afar. The duo eyes her in pity, and Sawyer studies her. "But that's not the case, I'm here, and he's out there, and I can't just give up on him…I won't," she affirms.

Her friends are both concerned by this, and admiring,

but Sawyer…

_'…__She gonna get herself killed,'_ he decides.

…But he was impressed, at least, deep down…

XXX

For about two hours then, the group debated which way her and Sawyer would go to get to Rivet city safest, and Sawyer himself placed his input in.

Whenever her friends would start to ask him questions she knew he wouldn't want to answer, she would cut in, and revert back the topic. When the plan was set in, and Billy and Lucy had left, Jess retired to her bedroom, whilst Sawyer made himself comfortable in his.

Jess had originally set the room for her father if-**when**…she'd find him, but until then, Sawyer could use it. Hopefully, she wouldn't have to buy a third bed, should things be resolved in Rivet city.

Sawyer was clear on their task, and was pleased they were no longer forming unnecessary circles around his situation.

Honestly, had he not somewhat assumed that she had entirely dropped it, and would bring it up again once at Rivet city, he, even if he would have fought against it, would've been disappointed, should she truly have given up on him so quickly,

…

…but she wasn't one to give up on people, was she.

XXXXX


	14. 14: Those!

Gunshots.

One after the other.

Yelling.

His dad's.

A scream!

He peeks out from beneath the stairs.

"Bryan! Run!"

Bryan crawls out.

Shock and horror freeze him.

"Run, Bryan! Run!"

…

XXX

"What is it, Sawyer?" Jess pushes. Her eyes were on the map she'd drawn in her notebook, but she could feel his on her.

The two were already on their way out of Megaton, to cross the bridge, and enter the Dupont Metro station. Traveling underground was safest.

"…What happened with your father?" he asks. Jess furrows her eyebrows irritably at the question, though her gaze remained fixated on the map she no longer needed to see.

"He left me in the vault. About a month ago," she shortly tells.

"…Why?"

"Wish I knew…" Jess then lets out a short laugh as she pocketed the notebook. "You think it's stupid, don't you? Me going after him," she implies.

"Yes," Sawyer bluntly replies, causing her to gaze at him un-expectantly. She then grinned. His honesty was refreshing.

"Heh. Yeah, I know," she retorts. Not the first time he'd heard that reply. "But, what else am I gonna do? Build a happy home in Megaton? Start a new life or something?"

"Survive."

"And would he have 'survived', knowing I was out there doing who knows what?" she knowingly challenged. Sawyer looked away.

"If he was smart." Jess eyed him in disbelief.

"That's sad, Sawyer. A life with no meaning, living for yourself. That's just sa-" Sawyer cuts her off with the raise of his hand.

Next to the building they stood, Sawyer pushed Jess to hide behind the corner as he remained on the edge, armed, for panic sped at the sound of footsteps rushing towards them.

Hearing it dangerously nearing, Sawyer saw no other way but to move out and face it.

He charged, Chuck high-aimed, and Jess followed,

only to find, that they scared

a young boy

off his feet, and onto the ground.

…He looked horrified,

tears streaming down his dirt-stained cheeks, eyes, nose, and cheeks strawberry-red.

They stood surprised.

Jess rushed forward, pushing down Sawyer's shot-gun and releasing her rifle that remained strapped to her shoulder.

The boy had his hands raised in caution, signaling wordlessly for them to stay back. Jess knelt near him, and he shuffled away, hasting to find his footing once again. "Hey, it's okay," Jess softly told. Sawyer glared onward. Whatever scared the boy might still be after him. "What happened? Is someone after you?" she asked. The boy sniffed and spoke with a hoarse voice.

"H-he. They-they killed him," he tried.

"Who?"

"D-dad," the boy cried, body convulsing with every shaken breath he gasped.

Jess eyed the boy sympathetically, and frowned. Sawyer grimaced at what he'd said.

The Wastelands. One's greatest enemy.

Or life.

They then heard a sound so strange to Jess, and, though distant, Sawyer recognized it,

so did the boy…

He turned in fear. "They're coming!" he exclaimed. Sawyer hooked his hand beneath Jess's upper-arm and pulled her up.

"Let's go," he said.

"Come on," Jess urgently beckoned the boy. Seeing no other options, he followed.

The three entered that adjacent building-block, and Sawyer eyed around for stairs in haste. "We need to get to the roof," he said.

"Why?" Jess asked in confusion with a firm, assuring hand on the scared boy's shoulder.

"It'll be harder for them to detect us, and will take them time to climb."

"Raiders?"

"…Worse."

The boy stifles a sob.

She notices.

She further panics.

Sawyer opens a door, and finds stairs. "This way," he beckons in haste. They rushed to follow. He waits for them to pass him, then grabs a broom from the shop's floor, heads in, closes the door, and blocks it. He climbs after them.

He rises to find that the entrance to the roof is locked. The boy starts to cry, and Jess shushes him. "Hey, it's okay, I'll get us in," she assures. Sawyer is worried by the fact that they'd locked themselves in. He assumed he could break-down the door, or shoot the knob, but after Jess pulls out one of the many bobby-pins in one of her belt's pockets, he and the boy await her success anxiously. Sawyer prays she knows what she's doing.

*Click*

She smirks, turns the knob.

They're through.

Sawyer exhales in relief, and Bryan hurries in. "Boy!" Sawyer whisper-yells at him. Bryan stops and turns to him impatiently. Sawyer stomps angrily towards him, and Jess warily follows. "Don't move. Crouch down."

The sun glares down on them, but the wind is swift.

The boy is clearly frightened by Sawyer, and reluctant to comply. Jess steps in. "Hey, what's your name?" she asks, crouching to reach his level. Sawyer leaves them and scours ahead. The roof-top was small, but the fencing was a half wall all around, torn-down at some sides.

"Bryan," the boy, who is eased by her presence, lets out.

"Okay, Bryan. I'm Jess, and the big, scary guy is Sawyer," she gives a slight smirk. Sawyer can hear them, and ignores them as he carefully reaches an edge and eyes down to spot them. "He's very strong, and is gonna keep us safe, so you have to listen to him, okay?" she pleas. It takes a minute, but Bryan then nods. Jess, who was fairly scared herself, smiles for his sake. "Good. Stay here, and crouch down like he said, okay?"

"Okay," he complies. Jess nods in approval and heads after Sawyer, who was down on one knee near the edge, binoculars she didn't know he had in hand.

She mimics his posture and attempts to follow his gaze. Unable to see exactly what those were, she squints and places her hand straight above her forehead to avoid the sunlight.

Still, she is unable to make out what the hasting, three or four figures were. "What the hell are those?" she asks quietly.

"Ants, big ones," Sawyer replies. Jess turns to him in shock. He still looks onward through the gadget, plotting. Her eyes dart back.

They couldn't be.

…The image zooms to focus with Sawyer's description…They really were ants…

Her eyes widen.

"Normally, they wouldn't be a problem," Sawyer resumes, placing down the binoculars. "But these ones breathe fire." Jess snaps to him, gawking.

"What?"

He does not think they have time for her to process, so he hands her the gadget, and she slowly takes it. He points west. "There's the station," he says. She brings the gadget to her eyes to see. It wasn't very far, but there were two other ants there, as well as the ones moving below.

"How are we gonna get there? Can't we just shoot them down?" she asks.

"We could, but the rest will follow, and we're not fire-proof." She studies his evident sarcasm, despite the lack of a smile. This was so not funny. "We have to move undetected."

"How? They'll smell us, they'll sense our movement."

"We'll have to run for it." Jess shakes her head.

"That's pretty risky," she says.

"Do you have a better idea?" he asks with well-hidden irritancy that was still obvious from his question.

Jess takes a minute.

She then turns to him with suspecting eyes. "…How's your throwing?"

XXX

As the ants busy themselves with their routinely patrols for food and anything moving, their senses are attracted to the vibration of a thud on the ground. They look to see a splattered chunk of meat not too far off, it immediately invading their sense of smell. All nearby rush towards it.

As they circle around it with ridiculous organization, a grenade quickly falls between them…

and explodes…

Half are dead.

Two are wounded.

And one is somewhat unharmed.

The three remaining turn,

and see…

XXX

"Shit," utters Jess. Sawyer brings up Chuck.

"It's easier to fight them from here," he states. Jess nods.

"Yeah. Okay." She rushes back to Bryan and kneeling in front of him. "Bryan. Go inside and close that door. If I don't come get you in ten minutes, you run, okay?"

"No, no! You'll die, just like dad!" the boy cries in panic. Jess doesn't know what to say.

The sound of Chuck going off snatches their attention. Jess snaps to Bryan impatiently. "Go!" she yells. The boy reluctantly does as told in haste. Jess quickly pulls off her rifle and joins Sawyer by the edge.

Sawyer had managed to kill one, it down and dead. The other two were still ascending the walls. Jess shot at the one closer alongside Sawyer.

Radroaches were easier. Why were the ants so tough?!

When it seemed they'd finally gotten it, the one behind it switched tactics, and spewed fire out on them from Jess's side.

Sawyer notes in time to push her back, but it still caught her, reddened her hand and forearm, and caught at the edge of her shirt-sleeve. She screamed out as her and Sawyer fell onto their backs, quickly putting the fire out, but their attention was forced back to the ant that had successfully risen.

Just before it cooked them both, Sawyer shot-gunned it right in the mouth, spluttering bits of skin and blood on both of them.

…

…Assuming it was over, the two, who were still on the ground fall back and breathe out in exhaustion and an attempt to shoo away the fear.

Jess, whose arm only lightly collides with the ground, winces and hisses at the immense pain. The skin was hot red, her whole lower arm and hand. The sleeve bits were charcoaled near her elbow.

Sawyer quickly rose and went to kneel beside her. He pulled off his bag and brought out one of the six stimpaks they had. She pushed herself up on her other elbow and reluctantly offered him her arm. He was careful touching it, but she winced still. It was too painful.

Hearing the commotion die-down, Bryan's curiosity, and the hope to see his saviors alive, took over him, and he peeked out the door. Seeing them alone, he cautiously strolled towards them.

"This is gonna sting," Sawyer warns her. Jess nods impatiently.

"Just do it," she says. Being a fresh vaultie, she was sure to have been caught in cross-fires at some point, at least he hoped this wasn't her first.

About to close the distance between the needle and her singed flesh, Bryan, somewhat quietly, calls out: "Wait!"

They freeze and turn to him worriedly. He hurries to Jess's other side and places one hand on her shoulder and the other atop her hand.

Getting he was trying to comfort her, Jess smiles gratefully at him, and he smiles back half-heartedly. Sawyer is also pleased with this, though a part of him thought it silly. He mainly hated it when his employers were hurt though; their whining was insufferable, this one he actually disliked seeing hurt, so if the boy would help, let him.

XXXXX


	15. 15: Rivet City

"This is unwise," Sawyer tells Jess. They are stood at the lower level of the store.

"We can't just leave him here," Jess insists.

"He cannot defend himself. He is a liability we can't afford," Sawyer persists. Jess pinches the bridge of her nose, and glances at Bryan, who was seated aside as they'd told him to, being unclear about the fact that he was the topic of discussion.

"What do you want me to do?" she asks Sawyer with a rejecting tone already. "Want me to just leave him here?"

"Return him to his home," Sawyer offers.

"You mean where his dad's body is, eaten and cooked up by fire fucking breathing ants?!" Sawyer inhales irritably. "He's coming with us to Rivet City," she declares as final.

XXX

The sun had set long ago. Jess and Sawyer had camped in a diner's kitchen. Jess was on the tiled floor, Bryan's sleeping head on her lap, and Sawyer seated near the door with Chuck in his hands.

Bryan had told them, after Jess had informed him that he was to go with them to Rivet City, that his older cousin lived there, and that he was very grateful they would escort him there safely.

That seemed to do little to ease Sawyer's concerns about having him along. He was quiet, and physically tense, Jess sensed, or maybe it was just her. Their disagreement left a hostile air between them. It couldn't stay that way if they were to continue together. She had to fix it, knowing he would make no such attempt.

She finally speaks up. "You're killing me with the disapproval look, Sawyer," smirking lightly. "You know this was the right call." No matter his worries, surely a part of him thought so, she hoped.

"I do as you command," Sawyer retorts, refusing eye-contact. Jess is angered by his dismissal.

"Don't give me that crap, Sawyer. We agreed you'd be honest with me," she reminded irritably. His steely gaze suddenly snapped back up to meet hers, causing her heart to jump in alert.

"Okay, you wanna hear the truth?" he asks, tone stern, glancing at the boy to insure he was indeed fast asleep. Jess doesn't know what to expect. "The truth is: you're not doing this for him, you're doing it for yourself." She is both shocked and confused by his words. "You think, by helping the kid who just lost his old man reach safety, is gonna make you feel better about your similar situation, but it's **not**. You're only making it worse, and if he **dies** along the way, you'll end up blaming yourself."

…For a moment, Jess is at loss for words, taking in his own and processing them.

Was he right?

_…'Yes,'_ a part of her confessed. But the fact remained clear.

"…And you think I wouldn't have blamed myself for leaving him to die back there?" she strictly rejects. Sawyer refrains from rolling his eyes at her meaningless counters.

"I think you should stop thinking who you can and can't save, and concern yourself with your own survival," he retorts. Jess eyes him in disapproval.

"And what kind of a life is that, exactly, where you live for no one but yourself?" she refuses.

"The kind that keeps you alive," Sawyer answers. Jess holds his gaze intensely.

"I'd rather be dead than live like that, alone," she declares. Sawyer looked away, exhaling tiredly. He wanted to say that she would indeed die soon with that head of hers, but decided it was a step too far, and kept it to himself.

She knew he was unconvinced…How could he **not **be? Though still unaware of the full extent of the harsh events in his life, she assumed his rejection was justified, but that did not dismiss her point…It was not a life to live for just one's self…

…Would he ever see that?

…She said no more for the time being…

XXX

The following morning, the group, using the metro tunnels, made way to Rivet City. After two hours of alertness that was intensified by the presence of a helpless child, on foot, and a few short breaks, they finally made it out in the open, which was not entirely good; the exposure to immanent dangers.

But within eyesight, Rivet City…

It was a large freighter, a pre-war aircraft carrier; grey, rusty, but very sturdy. It lied in shallow waters, a narrow bridge laid between its upper deck and a thin, tall, vertical steel structure opposite it, supporting the other end of that bridge.

The trio carefully and cautiously made their way to said structure, avoiding the gaze of some far off super mutants near the Jefferson Memorial.

Bryan felt fairly safe around Jess, and, surprisingly, Sawyer too, though he was too afraid to ever speak directly to him, as he'd several times wanted to ask why he always seemed so angry or upset.

The group made their way to the structure and climbed its rickety metal stairs.

At the other end of the bridge, were two guards it seemed. Jess hadn't come across a single settlement with actual guards until just then.

She was cautious of their weapons, but felt confident that, with Bryan at their side, there was no chance they'd randomly shoot.

Why would she even think they would?

…The Wastes had made her paranoid.

She glanced at Sawyer, who was as expressionless as always, but with his shotgun behind his back, she assumed they were in no immediate danger, and they started across the bridge with Bryan's hand in hers.

At the sight of Sawyer, expectantly, the guards tensed up. When the group were five feet away, one of the guards held up a hand. "Hold! State your business," he demanded behind a helmet and its glass-face-shield.

"I'm here to see a doctor Li," Jess starts.

"Why?" the other guard retorts.

"I was told my father had come to see her. I'm looking for him. His name is James Kendrick," she explains.

"…What about him?" the guard points a look at Sawyer. Jess glances in turn. The man spoken of remained as still as a statue, eyes afar.

"He's my…bodyguard," she gives.

It wasn't false.

"And the kid?" the other says.

"He's here for his cousin. Bryan, what's her name?" she asks.

"Vera. Vera Weatherly," he replies.

XXX

"Vera!" Bryan exclaims. The blonde speaking to a large, orb-like robot with three hands and eye-pods, a Mister Handy type, (there was one in Jess's vault too, Andy) she turns at the calling, and her green eyes go wide upon seeing who the voice belonged to.

"Bryan?!" she utters in shock, rounding the wooden counter reception of the Weatherly Hotel, her hotel, and approaching the three. Bryan rushes into her arms, that are spread still in disbelief. Slowly, she lowers them onto him, and holds him to her. "What are you doing here, kiddo?" she asks curiously, pushing him to arms' length and kneeling to face him. His smile drops, and he deeply frowns, tears threating to fall from his tired eyes yet again.

"Dad's dead," he quietly says. Vera's expression turns grim.

"Oh my god," she breathes. A second passes before she pulls him into a tight embrace. "You're okay now."

Jess smiles at the scene, her heart aching at the thought of her own father, while Sawyer is indifferent. Vera catches sight of them, and rises. Bryan faces the duo as well, and softly smiles. "Thank you," he says. "If it weren't for **both** of you, I'd be dead," he emphasizes 'both', intent on showing his gratitude to Sawyer as well, who is indifferent to that as well.

"No problem, Bryan," Jess smiles brightly at him.

Vera takes this in. "You saved my cousin, and brought him here in one peace. I don't know how I can thank you for that," she says, approaching them.

"There's no nee-" Vera cuts Jess off, smirking.

"Actually; I do. How long do you plan on staying in Rivet City?" she asks.

"Two, three days tops?" Jess tells perplexedly.

"Then you've got yourselves a room, free of charge, including food and drink for a day," she contently tells. Jess's manners were about to decline, but the idea of sitting after such a long journey in a non-threatening, somewhat comfortable place, sounded too pleasant to refuse.

"That actually sounds great. Thank you, Vera," Jess says.

XXX

Leaving Sawyer in the small room, Jess went off to find Doctor Li, and hopefully her father.

But as if hoping for too much, she didn't find the latter.

Quite frustrated with the endless, exhausting, and emotionally depleting quest, Jess rushed back to the hotel room.

She opened the door to find Sawyer lying on his bed. He faces her from there. "Oh. Sorry. Did I wake you?" she asks. He sits up at the edge of the bed and shakes his head.

"I wasn't asleep," he says. She nods at that. Sawyer noted the look in her eyes and posture: sorrow, disappointment, and irritation combined, very contradicting to her hasty attitude before she'd left the room over half an hour prior.

Seems she hadn't gotten the news she wanted.

"Okay, well. Doctor Li wants to see you," she flaps her arms and cocks her head at him as if suggestively, fishing him out of his lake of thoughts. Sawyer takes this in for a moment, and tiredly inhales at the hopeless idea. Regardless, he rises to his feet, humoring her. Jess nods and turns on her heels out the open door with him following.

XXXXX


End file.
